"Au café, il y a toujours une chance de parler, d'écouter, d'émouvoir, d'être ému."
Oh, Los Angeles, you never fail me.
Do you ever get the feeling that you're getting further and further from the sources of your food? To me, it often seems like everything is so pre-cut and packaged and continually available that we begin to forget that the things we eat (in the best case) come from the earth, and have a connection to our local climate and geography, and to the changing of the seasons as we orbit the sun. I'm always seeking ways to get closer to the source, so when I learned that Spork Foods, the cheery culinary sister act out of Silver Lake, was holding a class on spring's seasonal and local foods, I jumped on it. And people, it's good.*
Spork Foods is Jenny and Heather Goldberg. Jenny, a vegan chef who studied at the Natural Gourmet Institute in New York, handles the culinary side of the business, and Heather, who's worked at TreePeople for years (and is an awesome local musician) handles the rest. Now, I am not vegan or even vegetarian for that matter, but sometimes I like to pretend. My experiences have been hit or miss, but I always know to trust Jenny: her foods are healthful and truly delicious.
The classes work like this: you step through a perfectly appointed Silver Lake living room to the kitchen, where you take a seat at the long counter with your fellow students in this intimate, informal class. From here, the magic begins. This isn't a hands-on, everyone-cooks kind of class, so you just have to sit back and pay close attention as Jenny wows you with her delicious ways and her pearls of wisdom. How many of you knew that Meyer lemons and bay laurels (which produce bay leaves) are local to Southern California, hmm? Or that apple cider vinegar stimulates the digestive system? Lucky for us, Jenny is constantly betraying the semi-medical secret double lives of her ingredients as she cooks.
Because of the subject of this particular class, the focus was on fruits and vegetables, so there weren't too many exotic meat substitutes or other wacky replacements (not that there's anything wrong with those -- in a previous kitchen encounter, Jenny taught me to love seitan**, and I'm still an ardent follower). But a few simple vegan preparations made sense: curdle your soy milk with a bit of vinegar to get 'buttermilk' for your strawberry shortcake, Chef Jenny teaches us. And to top the shortcake, she made a whipped 'cream' from chilled coconut milk that was so delicious, it could stand on its own atop any dessert, vegan or not.
The kitchen was wild with vivid colors: beautiful spring peas from the farmer's market, just plucked from the pod -- some plump, some tiny -- would make the frozen variety cower in shame. Sturdy rainbow chard, with bright red veins running through its deep green, kept its color as it was sauteed with cremini mushrooms and white beans as a filling for elegant phyllo purses. Strawberries, carrots, and bright basil oil kept our eyes as stimulated as their aromas did our noses. As we savored all this, the class is so well-timed that before we know it, a full multi-course meal had been prepared before our eyes.
At the end of the class, we sat together at the table to dine -- and really, between carrot soup, phyllo purses, warm new potato salad, and an awesome strawberry shortcake (comforting and ultra-fresh at the same time), it's quite the feast! Between oohs, ahs, and satisfied grunts, I got to know my classmates: a South Bay make-up artist whose car is powered by 'veggie' fuels; a stalwart vegan who swears by her strict diet for saving her health, her sleep habits, and her life; and a vegetarian newbie trying to spice up her cooking repertoire. Despite the vegetable love in the room, I never felt cast out for my carnivorous tendencies. I guess everyone knew that anyone can benefit from a Spork Foods class. If you know what's good for you.
The schedule of classes for April, May, and June is up on the Spork Foods website, and includes yummy topics like Southern Food, Mother's Day Brunch, and Amazing Vegan Desserts. Check it.
* Full disclosure, just so we all start on the same page: I paid for my class, but the Goldbergs are old friends, and I've been a fan of Jenny's unique style of vegan cuisine for years. But really though, it's good.
**Don't be fooled by the disgusting-looking seitan pictures on the linked Wikipedia page. Clearly the photographers have not been schooled by Chef Jenny on the best brands to buy, nor the best ways to prepare it.
So, the idea is, go out for dinner on Thursday night. The only stipulation is, go to one of the bajillion or so restaurants listed here.
And that's it. That's all it takes to help prevent hunger and homelessness for individuals and families impoverished and disabled by HIV/AIDS.
In fact, it can even be breakfast or lunch. And there is definitely a restaurant in your neighborhood that's participating -- they've got the westside, the eastside, and my neighborhood in the middle covered. There's even one in Westlake Village. Through DineOut LA, local restaurants are donating at least 20% of their proceeds for all of Thursday April 17 to Aid for AIDS, a local organization providing financial assistance to people living with HIV/AIDS under the poverty line.
A great cause, and a great excuse to dine out.
as stated, when I made my own sabzi polo, i was too fixated on eating to take any photos, but when we went to my parents' a few nights later, my mom had made it as well, along with the requisite fish (in this case, a gigantic salmon filet with saffron and lime juice, and -- surprise! -- a little soy sauce). i snapped some pics. the flower pattern in the tahdig is slices of potato, which fry as the rice crisps on the bottom of the pan. delish like a knish.
glorious tahdig goodness
the full spread: salmon, sabzi polo, sabzi khordan (fresh herbs and radishes), limes for the fish, pickles...
Now, granted, I can't expect everyone in the world to be an authenticity expert when it comes to a cuisine that's a little esoteric and only recently making its way into the culinary mainstream. But, if you're going to have an episode on your hugely popular one-hour show where you authoritatively instruct America on the finer points of Persian cuisine, could you at least feature Persian cuisine?
You'd think that at the very least, the resident expert, 'Minoo', would quit clucking about how perfect everything was, and clue him in on the fact that hummus, felafel, and tahini Are Not Persian Foods. Nope. Not at all. None of them. Maybe if Emeril read his own blog, he'd know about Najmieh Batmanglij's New Food of Life, and maybe, just maybe, he'd consider doing some research before the show, pick up the book, and see that none of those items are in there. Hummus ma lahma? Those aren't even Persian words. They're Arabic! Don't know the difference? Right. Great.
Now, there are as many variations on Persian rice dishes as there are Iranian mothers, so I won't comment on the particular Persian rice recipe he made (Yes, they did manage to wedge in one Persian dish between all the felafel and lahma (and speaking of lahma, really, check this out)), but in the world of Persian rice, one thing is fundamental: respect the grains. You want long, distinct grains of Basmati rice -- no extra starch, no sticky, no mush. I could just sense the old mamanjans cringing as he squashed down his sloppy, waterlogged, parboiled rice with a big heavy spoon. He just seems bumbling: glopping enough saffron on his chicken to spice the whole henhouse, smushing rice back into the pot with a heavy oafy hand. Come on, Emeril, we know you're paid handsomely. And for the love of tahdig, you're a well educated, and well-reputed, chef. Please, just try a little bit. Just a little. Please.
End of rant; thank you for listening.
(And, now that I'm done whining, I will say, the bits of traditional Persian music performance they played at the end of the show were lovely, and I was pretty tickled to see that kind of footage on national television. But still.)
[Thanks to Tostie14 for the image of our hefty hero.]
UPDATE: Here are a couple pictures of the finished product from my mom's dining table.
Persian New Year (call it what you will: norouz, nowruz, Persian Park Day, whatever) looms once again. Which is to say, spring has sprung. The traditional meal of this lovely day is sabzi polo mahi -- rice with four herbs, served with fish. The green flavors of the herbs blend with the light perfume of basmati rice for an aromatic and seriously comforting dish. And its cheery green colors are perfect to ring in the season.
This is the first Persian rice recipe I'm posting here, but I don't want to get bogged down in the details of Persian rice in general (believe me, there are many -- I could go on and on). Let me just mention the very basics: the goal of Persian rice dishes, in stark contrast to east Asian sticky rice dishes, is an end result with distinct long grains of Basmati rice. You want to remove as much starch as possible, and handle the rice carefully to avoid breaking individual grains. To that end, the rice is soaked in salt water for a few hours, then parboiled, then steamed for an hour, in a pot with a small amout of oil and water at the bottom. The end result has a magic not unlike that of Jello 1-2-3: a mound of perfectly cooked rice, and hiding beneath it, the coveted tahdig, a layer of browned rice, crispy and delicious (and when I say coveted, I mean coveted by your older brother. Eat it up fast before he snatches it from your plate!).
I offer my mother's sabzi polo recipe below. There are a lot of steps here, and a lot of prep work. Keep in mind that this is part of a cuisine that has been perfected over the years by women who cooked for their families every single night. So, yeah, it's a little complex. Having said that, Violet's recipe is meticulously detailed, and offers myriad troubleshooting tips. And furthermore, unless you're cooking for your Iranian mother-in-law, no one will notice the minutiae, and they'll still be amazed with the flavors.
Oh, and for more information and photos from this beautiful holiday, here is a post from last norouz.
Violet's Sabzi Polo
The rice:
2 cups basmati rice
2 tbs salt
1/4 tsp turmeric (optional)
2-3 tsp oil (vegetable or canola are the conventional choices, but I use olive oil)
The herbs below combined, should add up to at least 2 cups. Use less of pungent fenugreek than the other three. You can use a food processor to chop all of them, except the chives, which will turn to paste. Feel free to process the stems in with the leaves.
Persian chives (tareh), or the green part of green onions
flat-leaf parsley
dill
fenugreek (shambalileh)
The piaz dagh (saffron caramelized onions):
1/2 onion, chopped finely
3-4 tbs oil
pinch ground saffron
1-5 Hours Ahead
Wash rice three times: Place rice in a small bowl. Cover with water, about one inch higher than the surface of the rice. Stir by clawing through with fingers. Drain carefully – use hand to block rice grains from washing away with water, and take care to prevent rice from toppling over and spilling out of the bowl as you drain it. Repeat this process 2 more times.
Cover rice with water, 1 ‘finger’ (about 1/2 inch) higher than its surface. Add salt; stir to combine. Let sit 1 - 5 hours. More than this, and the salt will harden the rice too much.
Prepare piaz dagh
Combine all ingredients in a medium saucepan. Cook over high heat, stirring frequently until it has a beautiful golden color (to quote Violet, "golden is tasty, brown is bitter"), about 8 minutes. Savor the smell of your kitchen.
Parboil
After soaking has completed, do the initial boil of rice: Bring 5 cups of water to a boil, covered, in a medium non-stick pot over high heat. Carefully add rice, with its water. Gently stir through with a spatula, making sure to scrape up the grains at the bottom of the pan. Watch pot until it comes back to the boil. For polo, add turmeric now, and stir to combine – this will give it an even pale yellow color. Lower to medium. Leave on heat for 3-10 minutes.
How do you know when parboil is done? To test when the rice is ready to be drained, put one grain under the tooth. It should not be hard in the middle – not raw, but not soft/cooked either. Individual grains should look elongated. It's best not to overcook the rice at this stage. If it's undercooked, you can make up for it in the steaming stage. But if it's overdone, there's no help for mushy rice.
Remove from heat and drain into a large colander. Rinse and dry pot.
Assemble and Steam
Add oil and 2-3 tsp water to above pot (Note: if you are not immediately cooking rice, only add about half of the water, then pour the rest over top immediately before cooking, to prevent rice from getting mushy). Shake pot to incorporate water and oil.
Into the colander of rice, add about 1/3 of herbs. Season salt and pepper. Within the colander, gently mix about 1/3 of rice into herbs. Use a fork, not a spatula, and take care to break as few grains as possible. With a wide spatula, pour herbed rice into pot, in an even layer. Drizzle with 1/3 of piaz dagh, including oil.
Repeat this process twice. As you add subsequent layers, shape rice in pot into the form of a mountain: as little of the rice as possible should touch the sides of the pot, because it will burn in a dry, unsavory form.
Using the handle of a fork, make about 5 'chutes' from top to bottom of mound of rice: one in the center, and 4 around the periphery. Poke the fork handle through the rice to the bottom of the pot, then move it gently and slightly from side to side to open the chute to about 1 inch diameter.
Place pot over medium-high heat, covered. When it’s ready (see below), lower the heat to low, and allow to cook for 1 hour. (You can cook it at very low heat for longer, to create a thicker tah-dig – just beware that if it burns, it’s very sad.)
parsley dill fenugreek chives
Looks like a new bakery is coming to the Farmer's Market. While I'll miss the old man that ran the bakery that's being replaced -- he always had a sweet word to say in a charming, if unplaceable, accent --, I'm excited about a newer bakery with a more contemporary list of offerings. I've always whined to myself about the fact that, while the Farmer's Market is a fine source for produce, meats, and most everything else 'markety', and despite having a few bakeries, I would never think to go there for a great whole-grain loaf, or a crusty baguette. Judging from Breadworks Bakery's website, they have a staggering selection of innovative breads to satisfy those of us raised on Food Network and Michael Pollan. Unlikely that they'll have the entire selection that you can order ahead from their Culver City store, but even a well-picked subset of the extensive list -- which includes 7-grain sour wheat, rosemary caramelized onion focaccia, Pullman loaves (perfect for truffled egg toast), and seven types of baguette, not to mention a variety of ryes and challahs for those Fairfax denizens with Jewier bread needs -- would be very exciting.
So, I was going to give you my first look at Sheddy's. As you may know, the space is around the corner from my apartment, and over the 3 years that Bodega De Cordova was there, I became a serious regular, and Kenny, the bar's owner, became a good friend. So, of course I'm curious about the new bar.
I was going to check it out Friday night, but unfortunately, I, along with quite a few others, were met with closed doors. Apparently the owners are having alcohol license issues, so they had to postpone their opening. Bummer.
Nonetheless, I can tell you a few things. They had a private event on Thursday night, but Raul the stalwart bartender -- been there since the first night the Bodega opened -- kindly let me sneak through. They've kept some of the old fixtures, but swanked up the place with red walls and dim lighting to give it a cozy bordello feel. They've fenced off a bit of the back for a small smoking patio. And, we learn from Thrillist that they'll be going for quality with their beer selection: Maudite on tap and Delirium Tremens in bottles, just to name a few. Sheddy's will even have some Spanish wines on hand, as a throwback, for us throwbacks.
I will also say that I've been seeing people trying to go to the bar all weekend. Whenever I've passed by, there've been people in bar clothes reading the note the owners have left in the window. There's certainly interest and buzz. While I certainly miss the mellow vibe of my very own Spanish wine bar, and the friendliest one in town at that, I look forward to hobbling home from Sheddy's as soon as they let me in.
[Oh, and for those who care, Kenny is now living in Miami, working for ASCAP (he's a musician and barkeep -- a winning combo), and proud father to a brand new baby girl.]
Sheddy's is at 361 Fairfax Ave., between Blackburn Ave. and 4th St.
