As the narrative of The Secret Daughter jumped between multiple characters, continents, and foods (from mashed potatoes to masala roti), I jumped from thoughts of Indian food to ice cream — well, it’s been very hot here in Toronto — and lastly to thoughts of Iran.
You might think that I would say I thought of Iran because The Secret Daughter is a book about identity, where India is almost one of the main characters having so much of the story devoted to it. And that it’s a book about home countries. About tradition. About family.
No. I thought of Iran because on my way to an ice cream shop the other day, I came across sour cherries!
Photo Credit: Flickr: MGF/Lady Disdain
I hadn’t eaten sour cherries for over fifteen years and suddenly could taste albaloo polo (sour cherry rice) in my mouth and knew what was going to be made for dinner. Many would have albaloo polo with chicken and so would Rosa Montazemi, the ultimate Iranian cook whose book called Honar-e-Ashpazi (The Art of Cooking) is in every household. And this is not hyperbole. Really. Every family has a copy.
In my family though we had albaloo polo with mini meatballs. I searched and searched and couldn’t find a recipe for these meatballs in my Montazemi Art of Cooking book. So here it goes, albaloo polo broken up into three sections:
Mimi Meatballs (recipe adopted from the small meatballs Turmeric and Saffron prepared for a pomegranate stew)
1 pound ground meat (beef or lamb)
1 teaspoon salf
1 teaspoon pepper
1 teaspoon turmeric
1 large onion
In a mixing bowl combine the ground meat, salt, pepper, and turmeric until mixed thoroughly. I guess you could use a large spoon to combine the ingredients together, but I just remember how my mom used to do it and it was with her hands. So I also used my hands to work the salt/pepper/turmeric combo into the meat.
Make small-sized meatballs (maybe just slightly bigger than a cherry in size) and set aside.
In a large frying pan, heat some vegetable oil (I use 1 tablespoon of grapeseed oil because I’m trying to be good with my fats, or at least I have the illusion of being good with my fats) and saute the onion until golden brown. Add meatballs; stir until all sides of the meatball are brown.
Sour Cherries (modified from The Art of Cooking by Rosa Montazemi)
Ms. Montazemi recommends that we pit our sour cherries and prepare an almost jam-like cherry syrup the night before we are going to make our sour cherry rice. This will really help the flavours set and the cherries to solidify themselves.
2 kg of sour cherries, pitted
1/5 kg of sugar
I modified this slightly and used 5 cups of cherries and 1 cup of sugar. She says to pour sugar on top of the cherries in a pot over medium heat until the resuting syrup starts to boil (approximately 20 minutes). Remove from heat and cool. Once completely cool, refregirate overnight.
We would keep the syrup and pour over the meatballs.
The Rice
I think that in Iranian cuisine your skills as a esteemed chef are dependent on your rice cooking skills. The individuality and length of rice grains can really make or break any dish, no matter how tasty the concoction may be. So I highly recommend that you make rice with a grain that you have tried before and know won’t be sticky or too starchy.
Photo Credit: Flickr: Emily Barney
Wash 4 cups of rice several times until cold water. Ideally, if you were to pour water on top of your rice, you’d want the water to appear relatively clear.
Pour rice with water (until water almost fills up the pot) in a large pot and bring water to a boil. It is very important to not let the rice cook too much at this stage. I always stand right next to the pot as the water is coming to a boil and steal little rice grains from the pot, trying the rice, and removing pot from heat when the rice grains can be chewed but are still a bit crunchy.
Remove water through a strainer. Return pot back to the stove top, reducing heat to low, adding some oil, and pouring layers of rice and sour cherries (just the cherries, no syrup) into the pot. Cover and cook for 30 minutes.
While I was waiting for the rice to cook I went in search of some Iranian music — specifically the music that I used to listen to when I was in my early teens. Andy, known as the “king of pop” in Iran, used to be one of my favourites, but wanting to spare you the long hair and flashy videos of the time, I thought to instead post this video. If you still really want to see some crazy long hair action, pirate shirts on stage, and soft-lens overboard, click here.
Oh, and then there were The Black Cats. Really, what was I thinking?
To serve mix sour cherry rice with meatballs. Montazemi also suggests sprinkling some crushed pistachios on top of your rice mixture and well, of course, don’t forget to add some saffron too.
I must admit the Farsi portion of the song has gotten me all emotional and nostalgic, and I’m thinking that more Iranian recipes will be posted on this blog going forward. For now, I will think back to sour cherries and stand by my rice!
As I was reading the opposing narratives of Secret Daughter, one of a North American woman, Somer, and her infertility struggles, and the other of a poverty-stricken family, the Merchant’s, in rural India, I found myself thinking of Indian food. And only Indian food.
First-time author Shilpi Somaya Gowda continued to encourage my thoughts of various chutneys, inconspicuous spices, and roti with her vivid descriptions of Indian food, its preparation, its devourment, and its contrast to the bland mashed potatos that Somer’s Indian husband was tasked with making for the holidays. As he continued to dash tobasco sauce onto everything on his plate, I continued feeling a lack of connection with the characters in the book — but I guess its hard to form connections with every character in every book you read like the one I have with Mary Boulton, a character that still has me in quest for the best rabbit stew out there.
Despite the thin character development and the unsophisticated writing of the Secret Daughter I did enjoy the way she described families in this book really enjoying their food — taking pleasure in the simplest of combinations. The Merchant’s often had to eat the same dish night after night, but still it was a point of pride that she could muster up the same dish every night without them getting tired of it. At last I couldn’t wait any longer. I had to find my copy of Vikram Vij’sElegant and Inspired Indian Cuisine and start making some Indian food!
It wasn’t much later when it dawned on me that since the move to Toronto my spice rack is a little bit empty and I don’t have the ingredients I need to attempt any of these recipes. So I sat there unsatisfied with the Secret Daughter and unsatisfied with my craving for Indian food.
Luckily a friend invited me to Lahore Tikka House where I had kabobs and tandoori naan (which made me nostalgic for the naan’s I would eat right after they came out of the tandoor in Iran, but that’s a story for another post). Vij’s Lamb Popsicles continued to haunt me.
Turning to comfort until I can go to an Indian grocery store or forget about the Lamb Popsicles (which I don’t think is going to happen), I decided to make some granola! Since it’s become my favourite breakfast I’m going through my jar of granola very quickly. After attempting my first home-made granola a friend sent me a link to this chewy clumpy granola recipe and so tonight I decided to give this clump of comfort a try — with very minor modifications.
Ingredients
2 cups organic old-fashioned rolled oats
1/2 cup shredded unsweetened coconut
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1 teaspoon nutmeg (need I even say why I turned a pinch of nutmeg into a teaspoon?)
1/2 teaspoon salt
3 tablespoons plus 1 teaspoon canola oil
1/4 cup honey
1/4 cup firmly packed light brown sugar
2/3 cup coarsely chopped pecans
2/3 cup cranberries
Old-fashioned oats are so much better than quick oats, which are more processed and mushier in texture. I don’t think I’ll ever go back to quick oats. Anyways, to make the granola, preheat oven to 325 degrees F.
In a large bowl, toss oats with coconut, cinnamon, nutmeg and salt. In a separate bowl, whisk together the oil, honey, and brown sugar until blended. Pour the wet mixture in with the dry, using your hands to combine the two until everything is well coated.
Cover a baking sheet with parchment paper and pour the mixture over top. Spread it out evenly. Kickpleat does a great job throughout her recipe in reminding us to not break up the mixture too much (clumping is a good thing after all!). And so I am going to do the same here.
Bake for 10 minutes and then use a spatula to gently flip the granola over. Sprinkle with pecans, and bake for another 10 minutes. Add cranberries and bake for another 5 minutes.
You must let the pan cool completely. Once it has, use your hands to break up the granola and remember: do not break up the clumps too much.
My apartment smells sweet and I know I will be dreaming of the granola that awaits me for breakfast (at least momentarily I shall forget my thoughts of Vij’s amazing recipes).
… and so do the lives of the two main characters in The Elegance of the Hedgehog, Renée Michel, a 54-year-old concierge in a Parisian luxury building, and Paloma Josse, a 12-year-old girl, the daughter of a bourgeois family in this same building.
Paloma has decided that life is meaningless.
She is making plans to commit suicide on her 13th birthday.
But before she dies, Paloma vows to write down profound thoughts in haiku-format and keeps a journal of the beauty of movement of the world — and while reading her journals, I find my eyes glancing at the newly purchased Kitchen Aid Mixer that’s sitting on my counter! So I read and I glance and I think of the movement of the dough as it would turn in the mixer.
I will myself back to reading the book.
Renée the concierge, is also in search of meaning and love and beauty, but instead of plotting her own suicide she shuts life out. She closes the door of her loge and inside it hides her love of art, tea time temptations with homemade pastries, and philosophical books.
All this talk of beauty and the rhythm of things made me think of Lamb’s Gorecki, its beating of the drum contrasting and complementing the soft movement of the wool she traces. This song signifies Paloma and Renée’s quest for love — love in all that is around us. Or love in the flow of words, because a grammatically correct sentence that uses equilibrium in choosing its words is magnificent. Well, or so think the characters in this book (I hope they never read my blog for it chops away the rules of grammar like the pecans I just coarsely chopped!).
So Gorecki becomes the song I play on repeat as I continue reading.
As the lives of Renée and Paloma unfold and overlap, they each find completeness in their world at last. Renee has finally found the one she has waited for. Paloma might have found a reason to live for. And I got thinking: it’s when I can have dessert for breakfast that I find completeness. And isn’t the way granola becomes clumpy and chewy worthy of the journal of the movement of the world?
With pecans already chopped, I set to make homemade granola. More specifically I set to make Orangette’s Daily Granola, adapted from Nigella Lawson’s Feast. Exchanging sunflower and sesame seeds for shredded unsweetened coconut, I was excited about the prospects of the unsweetened apple sauce.
Dry ingredients
5 cups rolled oats
2 to 3 cups raw almonds or pecan halves, or a mixture
1/2 cup shredded unsweetened coconut
¾ cup light brown sugar
2 tsp. ground cinnamon
1 tsp. ground ginger
1 tsp. salt
Wet ingredients
¾ cup unsweetened apple sauce
1/3 cup brown rice syrup
¼ cup honey
2 Tbsp. vegetable oil, such as canola or safflower
I preheat the oven to 300°F, spread the mixture (dry and wet ones combined together) onto my prepared baking sheet and await the moment when all of a sudden this mixture turns a golden brown colour.
To make the granola more dessert like, I’m pairing it with some blackberries and creating a parfait.
Photo Credit: Flickr: all_taken's blackberries before
So granola is in a bowl. Blackberries topped with some sugar are in a bowl. Cream is awaiting the mixer!
I use the Joy of Baking recipe for parfait and as such beat 1/2 cup mascarpone cheese, 1/2 cup heavy cream, 3 tablespoons confectioners sugar, and 1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract in the mixer until soft peaks form.
At last, this crunchy, clumpy, creamy, and fruity edifice is ready for its construction. So I layer the granola with parfait and berries, eat if for breakfast, and feel complete.
The thing I have enjoyed most about these debates can be explained through the making of the custard for my nutmeg ice cream. Have you ever noticed how you can stir and stir and stir your egg yolk, sugar, and milk combo until you can stir no more and without any advance notice all of a sudden it will get firm? I mean in a matter of seconds you start seeing a trail left behind your whisk in the custard. Your mixture will get firm and if you wait too long before recognizing this transformation it will be too late. The eggs will cook. And well… that’s just not cool.
Photo Credit: Flickr: Tom Higgins' Cooking Up The Custard to Make Ice Cream
I wanted the characters in Nikolski to continue their adventures. After finishing the book I was left yearning for more and in Day 1 of debates some of the panelists said that they found the book thin, confirming my thoughts. But just like when the custard forms, because it’s had some time to think, or because it’s had 10 minutes of constant stirring, or because all the elements finally mixed and mingled and declared the custard as ready, I started to see more in the book. In fact, I started re-reading the book.
Okay, truthfully, for me the transformation happened because I was so impressed by Michel Vezina’s defense of the book. Vezina talked of the complex interconnection of families that are split all across the world, about humanity, and about garbage. I started seeing things in the book that I hadn’t before.
Now as I stir my ice cream mixture, I have no idea how the debate will go and which book will be left standing. But if it ends up being Nikolski I would be happy. I like the book more with each stir and just like my custard has thickened, this book is no longer thin.
Photo Credit: Flickr: Red Snapper Ceviche by Sarah Sosiak
But that’s not how things went down in my kitchen. I agree that fish mentions and allusions were almost on every page of this book, making one wonder: why isn’t a fish telling the story like in Maelström? In this movie, the storyteller, a fish, hails from the aquatic magma present at the very beginning of the universe, and lets us see how the chacaters come to terms with their lives. In Nikolski, we also follow the story as the characters come to term with their lives. Except that I’m not sure they ever did! Or did they? The book, as whimsical as it was, did not provide me with closure. The ending left me yearning for more and wondering: what will happen to the characters?
With confusing thoughts around this book and my pick for Canada Reads, I thought about the chronicles of Joyce, one of the characters of Nikolski. What did Joyce do when she wanted to get away from it all? She would visit her grandfather, drink tea, and listen to pirate stories! Naturally I knew I had to make some tea.
There is nothing normal about Nikolski characters though and so I couldn’t bring myself to just brew some black tea. Plus, I’m feeling sick with a cold and need a big dose of anti-oxidants. Using Green Tea Matcha seemed perfect.
Photo Credit: Flickr: Matcha Tea by diff_sky
Green tea’s no-none-sense kick needed something extra. Something to make our hearts warm, because the Nikolski characters weren’t all confusing and frustrating. There were moments where I felt all warm and fuzzy for them. And here is the answer: white chocolate green tea matcha drink! The warm luxurious and smooth feel of white chocolate is the perfect addition to the ninja green tea.
Ingredients:
60 g good quality white chocolate
¼ tsp matcha green tea
1 tbsp sugar
1 cup whole milk (or water)
Directions:
In a small saucepan over medium heat, heat the milk or water (depending on how rich you would like your drink to be) with matcha green tea and sugar. Whisk rigorously until mixture comes to a boil.
Reduce heat. Add white chocolate and continue to whisk until mixture just comes to a boil.
Pour the hot mixture in mug. Enjoy.
At last, will I be defending Nikolski? As delicious as the green tea matcha drink was, I think not. I wanted more from Nikolski.
With the debates starting shortly, I’m very confused as to which book I will be defending. But based on the panelists, I think that Good to a Fault has a good shot at winning.
In the mean time, I will drink some tea while I await the start of debates.
Turned the last page. Finished Fall on Your Knees. Closed the book. Mixed some cocoa and made cinnamon toast.
Because that’s what one does after babies drown in a river. Cinnamon toast and hot cocoa is what one has after a series of tragic events hit one another and end your day in tears. Or at least this is what the characters in Fall on Your Knees do. This is what the Piper family does.
They eat cinnamon toast and drink hot cocoa — making all their troubles vanish. It seemed to be their ultimate comfort food.
So naturally, after finishing this book, after all the sadness, I had to mix in some cocoa and make cinnamon toast!
Photo Credit: Flickr: Mixing in the Cocoa Powder by Lisa Brewster
Photo Credit: Flickr: Cinnamon is Good For You by Cinnema Addict
I followed this recipe to make the cinnamon toast, and as I was fooled by thoughts of simiplicity, thinking that cinnamon toast won’t really need a recipe, I’m glad I followed the recipe. It was methodical and didn’t disturb my thoughts of the book. Fall on Your Knees was a very intense book that I had to think about it and think about it and think about it some more. And of course, think about it while devouring cinnamon toast and hot cocoa.
At the end, this book was about motives for me. The characters in this book, even those outside of the Piper family, all dreamed. They dreamed of a future where they would be educated and successful and happily married. They dreamed of a future free of the bounds of where they were living. And a future where they would be able to show them. These characters all strove to rise about it all — driven to evil doings in the process. The book definitely showed that none of these characters were truly good, except for… well maybe Lily. Every other character had an evil side, masked by these dreams.
So.
At last, what will be my decision? Will I move forward with defending this book for Canada Reads 2010? Well, I still have Nikolski to finish (my final book). And, I still need to think about the emotions of Fall on Your Knees more. Perhaps I should make some kibbeh and tabooleh, in memory of Materia.
Side note:
I listened to many songs while going through this book and am thinking that maybe putting a soundtrack together will help put my emotions in check.
This song made me think of Materia (the mother of the Piper family), who was ghost-like, walking by the edge of a cliff, looking for answers and salvation. She only had one wish too, to protect her daughter.
2. Bonobo / Ketto
For some reason the melody of this song makes me think of Frances. The singer’s whispers. The water dripping sound. It makes me think of the time when Frances was pregnant — the prayers and the baths that Mercedes would give her.
3. Llorca / Expectations
Evil is a necessity. It is the food of the genius. And the artist must know that art is ambiguous. And music the most ambiguous of the arts.
Oh, Kathleen!
4. Gabriel / Lamb
This book wasn’t all about sadness. There was love too. And momentary happiness.
5. Sibylle Baier / Tonight
Is this what they all wanted James to be like?
6. Mi and Lau / Older
Okay, so this one is out of place, disconnecting the flow of song to song. But in a way it reminded me of Frances’ plot, which also seemed out of place. No?
7. Mohair / Stranded
James was stranded in No Mans Land, in limbo, and so was Materia before the births of Mercedes and Frances, and so was Frances after the assumed death of her son, and so was, and so was, and it seemed like being stranded, being all ghost-like was what you just grew into.
8. Camera Obscura / Razzle Dazzle Rose
How serendipitous that I found this song? And it has Rose in it.
The salvation for the Piper family. The book ends with Rose. It ends with hope.
Rose, I’m feeling older
I was lucky like a four-leaved clover
tried to be happy but it wasn’t easy
When I choose my colour be Razzle Dazzle Rose
Oh, I’m feeling older
Courage my love will make me bolder
Expecting softness can lead to foolishness
When I choose my colour be Razzle Dazzle Rose
Materia yearns to make sense of life, searching for answers at the edge of a cliff. And as I finish Book 3 of Fall on Your Knees, I can’t help but listen to this Royskopp song on repeat.
It’s a song about life. About its meaning. About where we come from and where we go afterwards. Mercedes (twelve and going on forty where I finally decide to put the book down) tries to capture her history in a family tree, knowing that it still doesn’t answer questions about her future. “It tells us where we came from. But it doesn’t tell us where we’re going. Only God knows that”, says Mercedes.
It was me on that road
But you couldn’t see me
Too many lights on, but nowhere near here
The Piper family struggles with loneliness. With wanting nothing more than being seen, being recognized, and yet, remaining unseen. They inch towards answers on separate roads, muddied by flash lights and the C sharp explosion all those years ago that started all the nightmares.
In this song, the singer also yearns for someone who can give her answers. Who can explain her being. Who can grant her just one wish.
It’s about you and the sun
A morning run
The story of my maker
What I have and what I ache for
Needless to say: this song has become my soundtrack for this Canada Reads book. The singer’s one wish to be with the love of her life was granted. And all it took was just the one right wish to be granted for her to be truly happy.
Will the characters in Fall on Your Knees find happiness? I hope so. And someone please stop Frances from squishing my heart into a piece of black and white candy! To be able to continue reading through this sadness, I made Mac and Cheese. Then ate two slices of almond cake.
I am starting Fall on Your Knees, and all the tweets about the sadness that is this book is making me think: I better have some comfort food handy to get me through it!
So far the reading has been okay, but I have a feeling that more sadness is awaiting to be read. Why is Canadian literature so full of teardrops and hardship?
The Jade Peony read like a love affair between the old and new — the Old China, the Old China ways, and the Old One, aka Poh-Poh or simply grandmother, versus the new traded secrets of Chinatown in Vancouver. This love affair with China weaved through stories told from the perspective of three siblings, only sister Jook-Liang, second brother Jung-Sum, and third brother Sek-Lung. Though these stories are about the struggles of Chinese immigrants I think all people can relate to the internal conflict of honoring traditions while dreaming of dancing like Shirley Temple and being modern.
For me, Two Gallants’ The Deader was the soundtrack of Jade Peony, explaining this love for China with lyrics alluding to the raging sea, which was what metaphorically and geographically separated these characters from the Old China, from war, and from their dreams of heroism and lost relationships, specially after the departure of the Old One.
In My Name is Red, miniaturists in the Ottoman Empire set to solve a murder by studying a set of paintings. These paintings are rebels amongst the 2-dimensional miniature designs of the time. They are 3-dimensional, almost abstract. Modern. Wickedly painted.
I’ve been contemplating bacon ice cream for awhile and being afraid of committing the unthinkable. Can bacon really be savoured in frozen form with cream, sugar, and eggs (umm… lots of eggs)?
So naturally I put The Deader on repeat and inspired by the Jade Peony started to candy some bacon! Following this David Lebovitz recipe I simply used some brown sugar over strips of bacon and with just 15 minutes in the oven I had perfect candied bacon.
Photo Credit: DavidLebovitz.com
And 24 hours later, after the ice cream custard was chilled and ready for the ice cream maker, I realized: the old and new don’t need to be battling each other. I think through friendships and story telling (a theme that I’m beginning to notice in this year’s Canada Reads with Generation X’s omelet of stories) the old ways can complement new, modern, and wickedly painted ideas.
At last, I absolutely enjoyed reading The Jade Peony and was grateful that it finally got me to make some bacon ice cream!
Foraging thoughts are only a recent addition to my desire to become a locavore like Mary Boulton. But we’ve already discussed that in Fox in Woodland.
Barbara Kingsolver says in Animal, Vegetable, Miracle that all stories begin in one of two ways: “a stranger came to town” or else, “I set out upon a journey”. The rest is all just metaphor and simile she says. And just when I was ready to submit to the realism that I will never be Mary Boulton given my liking for the comforts of a city, I realized that Mary is in fact my stranger that came to town. She instilled a need for me to connect to my environment more and Barbara Kingsolver started me on a journey of going to farmers markets, making cheese, and attempting to make sourdough starter — with help from Amber Strocel‘s sourdough experiment. I also learnt that you don’t name your starter until a week has passed; it’s bad luck. My second (and name-less) attempt at making starter is going much better.
Like Barbara I now look at eggplants thinking they are lightbulbs, especially the white ones. And I have respect for the cold-weather saviour that is winter squash. Did I say that I’m addicted to delicata squash?
Barbara awaits the wild asparagus, describing the asparagus plant’s life history and the edge it holds as the year’s first major edible. “Waiting for foods to come into season means tasting them when they’re good” and appreciating them more since the time to taste them is short. This takes me back to my childhood where all children — without exception — would await the arrival of spring, not because of Norouz (well maybe partly because of Norouz), or because of its sunny day promises, or because it brought the end of the school year that much closer.
No.
The ubiquitous buzz of spring was about the arrival of the Persian Green Plum.
These green sour-tasting and juicy plums, aka Goje Sabz, were valuable currency on any school’s playground. I would eat them until my stomach hurt, and repeat again the next day. So what’s happened? Why did I need Barbara to remind me of the joy of eating fruits and vegetables when the waiting is finally over?
My thoughts on Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: I can’t stop thinking about this book. Barbara Kingsolver with a sweet witty-ness wrote about her food adventures, provided recipes, and inspired action within me to make my own cheese, bread, and as many meals as possible. Most importantly for me, she provided solutions for those of us living in the city as to how we can connect with our food better and understand where our food comes from.
Phew.
I don’t have to be chased into the wild mountains of Alberta to be close to my food like Mary Boulton. Nor do I have to move to a farm. Thank you farmers market! I can continue to live in the city, go on foraging trips to Anthropologie for lemon-coloured sweaters and shirts with pear prints, while awaiting the arrival of spring and the green plum.
