tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-279602002024-03-07T01:27:03.924-08:00all kinds of yumthoughts on food and life from a sunny kitchen in los angelestannaz sassoonihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11896521823667685140noreply@blogger.comBlogger416125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27960200.post-91210613094411614992016-12-29T15:13:00.000-08:002017-01-12T18:52:31.889-08:00Hanukkah Video: Zoulbia<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Back in 2008, miffed that there wasn't a strong Iranian Jewish culinary tradition for Hanukkah, and knowing that throughout the Middle East and Mediterranean, Jews eat various fried sweets to celebrate the oil-related miracle that Hanukkah commemorates (the same thread latkes weave through Eastern Europe), <a href="http://tannazie.blogspot.com/2008/12/pretend-youre-persian-this-hanukkah.html">I started my own tradition</a>: I proclaimed <i><b>zoulbia</b></i>, a crisp lacy fritter that bursts with rosewater cardamom syrup when you bite into it, to be the traditional Iranian Hanukkah food.<br />
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It took off. <a href="http://www.mashupamericans.com/food/tannazs-zoulbia/">The Mashup Americans bought into my fledgling tradition</a>, and <a href="http://www.kveller.com/recipe-sweet-persian-fritter-zoulbia-an-iranian-hanukkah-treat/">Kveller picked it up</a> from there.<br />
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So, when Eileen Levinson of <a href="http://www.customandcraft.org/">Custom and Craft</a> approached me to do a Persian Hanukkah cooking video, I knew just the recipe. Last week, Eileen, her cameraman, and lots of fancy equipment alit on my kitchen, and we cooked, staged, shot, and noshed together. I'm really excited about the end result.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i9.ytimg.com/vi/jpizvGJav7s/default.jpg?sqp=CMSolsMF&rs=AOn4CLA_GMPLB_0whFE9jUWjUU-Q1nilmQ" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/jpizvGJav7s?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
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Recipe and Behind the Scenes shots after the jump.</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Zoulbia</b></span> </div>
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This is a yeast-based batter, so allow time for it to rise. If you are working with children, take great care in the frying step, as the hot oil may spatter. You can buy plastic squeeze bottles from restaurant supply stores, or even from stores like Target, but in a pinch, an empty plastic shampoo, dish soap, or ketchup bottle with a narrow opening, thoroughly cleaned, works fine. Leave out the yogurt for a non-dairy version of this dessert.</div>
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The batter is very tangy – from the combination of yogurt and baking powder, the latter of which also imparts a distinct saltiness. All of this balances the sweetness of the syrup. </div>
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<i>Batter</i>:</div>
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1 cup flour</div>
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1 cup water</div>
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1 Tbs baking powder</div>
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2 Tbs yogurt (optional)</div>
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1 package active dry yeast</div>
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<i>Syrup</i>:</div>
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1 cup water</div>
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2 cup sugar</div>
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1 Tbs honey</div>
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dash cardamom</div>
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1/4 C rosewater</div>
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Grapeseed or other flavorless oil to fry</div>
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Mix together batter ingredients. Let sit for 1 hour. </div>
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To make syrup, combine first four ingredients in a small saucepan over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until sugar is completely dissolved. Remove from heat and stir in rosewater.</div>
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Fill squeeze bottle with batter.</div>
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Fill a large pan with a 1-inch layer of oil. Heat over medium-high heat until a drop of water dropped into the oil sizzles. Squeeze out batter into hot oil, creating spirals and free-form designs, but maintaining a generally circular shape. The end result should be lacy and not too heavy, so try to squeeze out enough batter to maintain the <i>zoulbia</i>'s structure, but not too much to make a solid mass. Fry for a few minutes, flipping or submerging to fry both sides, until deep golden brown. Using tongs or two forks, carefully remove <i>zoulbia</i> from pan and shake off excess oil. Lower gently into syrup, quickly submerge and remove. Continue making <i>zoulbia</i> with remaining batter, adding oil as necessary. Cool on a rack in a single layer.</div>
tannaz sassoonihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11896521823667685140noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27960200.post-26260892693423877192016-11-30T07:53:00.000-08:002016-11-30T14:53:50.033-08:00Sunday: Pumpkin PreservesI'm not going to write about politics, although my heart is heavy. Instead, I'm going to tell you about the day I spent with my mom, Sunday, November 6, making pumpkin preserves. It was a really nice day.<br />
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Early Sunday morning, I drove my friend Jana to the airport. She'd been in town for her sister-in-law's bridal shower, which we attended the day before. I've been close with Jana's in-laws since we stayed in their family home in Guadalajara fifteen years ago. I remember that trip so fondly: we met many aunts, uncles, and cousins, I tested out my mediocre Spanish, I had my first chilaquiles, michelada, and <i>coctel de camarón</i>, and on New Years Eve, we ate 12 grapes at midnight Jana's husband's uncle's stately home. So it was fun to see everyone at the shower again, celebrating with the family over mimosas and tacos on hand made tortillas.<br />
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I took Jana for coffee at Porto's before dropping her off. The bakery started out in the 70s with the family matriarch, a new immigrant from Cuba, baking cakes in their tiny apartment, and is now <a href="http://www.latimes.com/business/la-fi-portos-20160422-story.html">one of Los Angeles' most successful local chains</a>. I will take any opportunity to scarf down one of their amazing potato balls – filled with seasoned ground beef and fried until golden – or a perfect guava cheese pastries.<br />
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Making pumpkin preserves requires soaking the cubed pumpkin in a solution of pickling lime for hours: this dunk ensures that your finished product will stay crunchy on the outside, so that when you bite into it you get a juicy burst of fragrant cardamom and rosewater syrup. My mom came to my house Sunday morning, and once we scooped out the seeds, sliced, peeled, and diced the giant pumpkins, I dragged her along for my day's activities.<br />
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We walked to the Atwater Farmers Market. Mom wasn't hungry, so I reluctantly walked us past the new booth where friendly Jamaican ladies sell delicious "patties" — warm pastry pockets stuffed with spiced meat or vegetables. I explained to my mom what pupusas were as we passed Delmy's stand. She and her pupusas have been a fixture in our east side community for years. She even served them up, fresh, hot, and topped with tangy <i><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Curtido">curtido</a></i>, at the wedding of my friends Talia and Daniela in Elysian Park two years ago.<br />
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We walked home and checked on the pumpkin, and could already tell that it had crisped up in the lime solution. Then I took my mom to the birthday party of Leo, the four-year-old son of two close friends. As we walked up to their picnic tables in the park, two-year-old Tashi ran up to me in two different shoes — her favorite new fashion statement. I was the maid of honor at Tashi's parents' wedding. I have her mom, Jessica, to thank for introducing me to the simple joy of sticky rice with toasted seaweed and kimchi back when we were roommates in college. I have her to thank for a lot.<br />
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We had tamales and birthday cake (chocolate with chocolate frosting – birthday boy's choice), and as we left, 3-year-old Azalea told me that she was an astronaut. Keep dreaming big, little AZ.<br />
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We came home and got back to work. This recipe comes from my <a href="http://tannazie.blogspot.com/2006/06/book-auntie-mohtaram-and-one-last.html">Auntie Mohtaram</a>, my mom's eldest sister, and my mom called her a couple times as we prepared the pumpkin to make sure we were doing everything right. Mohtaram really is a window into another era, in another world, to me. She grew up in the Jewish ghetto in Tehran and was married off early as a child bride. She moved in with her husband's family in Khorramshahr, near the Iraqi border, and this recipe <i>might </i>have Iraqi origins (or maybe Armenian). Now, at 87 years old, she has 8 grandkids. Her youngest great-grandchild, <a href="http://tannazie.blogspot.com/2015/04/scenes-from-iranian-american-passover.html">Kiran</a>, is also my littlest cousin. His mom, a psychiatrist at MIT, adopted him three years ago. He has the smiliest eyes and a silly sense of humor.<br />
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Cooking cross-generational recipes always gets the memories flowing, and even though this is a recipe Auntie Mohtaram brought to the family, I couldn't help but thinking of <i>Mamanini</i>, as we called my maternal grandmother. She was a tiny old woman, round and cozy, with the softest skin. Always in a dress, often with a beautiful scarf in beiges, blues, and greys tied over her hair. She was one of the most openminded and quickest to laugh in our family, and always the one bringing all the family together in her home after toiling in the kitchen to feed us.</div>
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Mamanini was married as a young teen, and started having babies shortly thereafter. She never went to college, and yet spoke English, some Hebrew, some French, and some Arabic. She was a talented artisan, knitting intricate Persian rugs, and eventually had a staff of knitters in her home, creating rugs that her husband would sell at the bazaar in Tehran. A true entrepreneur.</div>
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My Mamanini came to the US a widow, and housed my mom, my sister, and me in her home for our first two years in this country after we fled the revolution in Iran. Today, her six children, 18 grandchildren, 39 great-grandchildren, and 5 great-great-grandchildren (!) are all here in the states, and miraculously, we're all still close.<br />
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That's where we came from, and this is where we are. That was my Sunday, and these — all of these — are my people.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Pumpkin Preserves | Moraba Kadoo Halvayee</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Makes about 18 one-pint jars</span><br />
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It's a little hard to categorize this dish. Like so many Persian sweets, this pumpkin recipe is flavored with cardamom and rosewater. In my house, we call it <i>moraba</i>, preserves. But it's not spreadable like a jam. Because of the pickling lime, the cubes of pumpkin develop a crunchy outer wall, but when you bite into them, they burst with sweet fragrant syrup, so it's almost like a candy. But it makes a delicious breakfast with warm flatbread and clotted cream, and it's also beautiful on a cheese plate or mixed into yogurt, and honestly, a couple cubes are a great snack on their own. It's definitely time-intensive, but it's really special.<br />
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1 1/2 medium pumpkins</div>
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2 Tbs pickling lime*</div>
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5 pounds granulated sugar</div>
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2 tablespoons ground cardamom, plus about 32 cardamom pods</div>
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1/2 cup rosewater**</div>
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Halve pumpkins with a large, sharp knife, and scrape out seeds and stringy flesh surrounding them. You can save the seeds and toast them. Carefully cut pumpkin into 1-inch slices. Peel each and cut it into 1-inch squares.</div>
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In a large pot, dissolve pickling lime into water. Add pumpkin, then add enough water to cover. Stir, and soak 4 hours or overnight.</div>
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Rinse pumpkin, under many changes of water, until lime is <i>completely and thoroughly</i> washed off.* Bring water, sugar, and cardamom to boil in a large pot. You're going for a very sweet syrup here. Measure out your water as you fill the pot, and add one cup sugar for each cup of water. You should have enough syrup to generously cover all your pumpkin (you'll need this to fill your jars), so if, once you've added your pumpkin, you find that you need more water, be sure to add sugar to match it.<br />
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Carefully add pumpkin, bring back up to a boil, then simmer, covered, for about 2 hours. After about twenty minutes, taste a piece. It should be very sweet, and have a strong cardamom scent. Add sugar or cardamom if necessary. After two hours, taste a piece for texture: it should be crunchy on the outside, but soft, juicy, and fully cooked within. Remove from heat, and stir in rosewater.</div>
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Carefully place in jars, refrigerate for immediate use, or follow proper canning techniques to make this jam shelf-stable. If you are canning, be sure that all pieces of pumpkin are fully covered with syrup.</div>
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* Read <a href="http://www.food.com/about/pickling-lime-730">this warning about pickling lime</a>. It's very important to clean it thoroughly from the pumpkin.<br />
** Always buy imported rosewater. The domestic stuff tastes like water.</div>
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<br />tannaz sassoonihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11896521823667685140noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27960200.post-64137263579707390782016-10-25T22:44:00.000-07:002016-11-03T10:51:02.468-07:00Slow-cooked Lentils: The heart wants what it wantsThe other night, I was talking to a Lebanese-Australian guy at a bar (as one does). And as I do when confronted with an Arabic-speaker, I turned the conversation to language. He mentioned that the Arabic word for 'heart' is <i>qalb</i>, and it got me thinking.<br />
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While Arabic and Persian aren't from the same language family, Persian picked up a lot of Arabic words at the time of Arab Conquest. Basic, fundamental things in the language are pure Persian, but there's plenty that was built on top of that foundation, much later, that comes from Arabic.<br />
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So, I was surprised: <i>qalb </i>is the Persian word for 'heart', too. You'd think that the word for this most essential body part would predate, well, pretty much everything. But it's a little complicated: In Persian, when you talk about the blood-pumping physical organ in the middle of your chest, you use <i>qalb</i>. But when you talk about the thing that pangs when you have a crush, the part of you that pulls when a friend is hurting, <b>the word is <i>del, </i>and <i>del </i>refers to the stomach.</b><br />
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Anatomically speaking, <i>del </i>is a Persian word for stomach. There are others, but when you have a stomachache, it's your <i>del </i>that hurts. But when it comes to what English-speakers know as matters of the heart, in Persian, they sit squarely in the <i>del, </i>the stomach. When you're forlorn and missing someone, you're <i>deltang </i><i>—</i> your <i>del</i> feels tight, not your <i>qalb</i>. When you sympathize with someone's misfortune, you're <i>delsooz — </i>your <i>del</i> burns for them. When you're overflowing with emotions and need to vent, your <i>del </i>is <i>por, </i>or full. And when someone talks you through your sadness and makes you feel better, they are your <i>deldar</i> — they have your <i>del</i>. And of course, that hottie walking down the street? That's a <i>delbar</i>, one who takes your <i>del.</i><br />
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It's weird at first to think of the belchy, acid-filled stomach as the seat of our most exalted feelings, but the more I think about it, the more it makes sense. <b> In a culture where food is a tool of healing, a justifiable labor, the fruit of creativity, the foundation of the family home, and the deepest expression of love, <i>of course</i> the stomach is where emotion lives.</b> When you peel away external influences, the unadulterated core of Persian emotion is this perfect heart-stomach hybrid.*<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXa0IPlhvNc-c9-bkt6_SA20vwbDu3j0TSkBEO3j-mMHPL8us8dJe_d8x4g-vCU7pxeBDPAtGIwMvliwUM8WP8xYUVgiaXsmZj7-suiTnL0AbVo2Zk2OLy2ElIR6JB2h97z8FttA/s1600/IMG_0561.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXa0IPlhvNc-c9-bkt6_SA20vwbDu3j0TSkBEO3j-mMHPL8us8dJe_d8x4g-vCU7pxeBDPAtGIwMvliwUM8WP8xYUVgiaXsmZj7-suiTnL0AbVo2Zk2OLy2ElIR6JB2h97z8FttA/s640/IMG_0561.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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In Persian, when you don't just off-hand want something, but really, <i>really</i> want it, you say that your <i>del</i> wants it. The last couple months have been an whirling blur of jetlag, illness, a birthday, <a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BLIDwnDA56l/">holidays</a> (<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BLgKC5Vj87H/">times two</a>), <a href="https://www.dreamworks.com/trolls/">wrap parties</a>, hangovers, and <a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BKQ2NXJgnN0/">so</a> <a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BK8WJS5AHZ4/">much</a> <a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BLbIJbWgb_4/">amazing</a> <a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BLmIYJdg89f/">travel</a>. After all this indulgence, all my <i>del</i> wants is the simplest preparation of lentils. The Persian word for lentil is <i>adas</i> (also from Arabic, it turns out), and adorably, lentil soup is <i>adasi. </i>There are plenty of <i>adasi </i>recipes with various vegetables and spices, but simply simmering humble brown lentils forever with nothing but salt and pepper imparts a suprisingly complex flavor. It's typically served in shallow bowls sprinkled with ground <i><a href="https://figandquince.com/2015/06/12/golpar-angelica-spice-persian/">golpar</a></i> or oregano to help with digestion, and most commonly for breakfast. I love adding a knob of butter to the center of my bowl and watching it melt into liquid gold.<br />
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Pure nourishing comfort — exactly what my heart, and my stomach, want.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">* We know that <i>del </i>is truly Persian, because we see it in its Indo-European cousins, such as Hindi, which has the word <i>dil</i>, which of course, we know from the 1998 movie <i>Dil Se </i>("At Heart"), which gave us <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VKK_JZJywqk">this most amazing Bollywood moment ever</a>.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Adasi | Persian Slow-cooked Lentils</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Makes 8 servings</span><br />
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The actual cook time is a bit fudgy in this recipe: depending on how long you soak the lentils and the type of lentils you use, it can vary from about 45 minutes to two hours. If you use a pressure cooker, you can get them done in about 20 minutes. What you're looking for is a creamy, almost spreadable texture, with very little loose liquid and soft but not completely broken down lentils.<br />
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2 cups green or brown lentils<br />
1 teaspoons salt, plus more to taste<br />
1/2 teaspoon black pepper, plus more to taste<br />
1 teaspoon ground turmeric (optional)<br />
1 teaspoon ground cumin (optional)<br />
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<b>Garnishes</b><br />
butter<br />
dried oregano<br />
ground <i><a href="https://figandquince.com/2015/06/12/golpar-angelica-spice-persian/">golpar</a></i> or oregano<br />
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Add lentils, 5 cups water, and salt to a large bowl and stir to combine. Soak lentils for at least two hours, up to overnight.<br />
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Move lentils, with their water, to a large pot. Add pepper and turmeric, if using, and bring to a boil. Lower heat to a lively simmer, cover and cook, stirring approximately every 15 minutes, until lentils reach desired consistency. Adjust seasoning to taste.<br />
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Serve steamy hot with a sprinkle of oregano or ground <i>golpar</i> and a big knob of butter.<br />
<i><br /></i>tannaz sassoonihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11896521823667685140noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27960200.post-15572390846248402782016-08-28T09:49:00.001-07:002016-08-29T10:40:24.736-07:00It's a processIt's been a while. It's been a long while, and I'm sorry, lovely readers. So much has happened, I'm not sure where to begin. But, today, I'm making granola.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0YjIgBouZaHXRkWAMg9tQeb0l0FR3i6bkZs7y78HhiyeRNEjE2KqKgRcO22PLCdebwyOoUIoBm60_Qp-nXcE2ejBthiDQQ2mvav4BzminUCh-A_oqruVhOmPw82xQkbsRwtmMWQ/s1600/IMG_0533.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0YjIgBouZaHXRkWAMg9tQeb0l0FR3i6bkZs7y78HhiyeRNEjE2KqKgRcO22PLCdebwyOoUIoBm60_Qp-nXcE2ejBthiDQQ2mvav4BzminUCh-A_oqruVhOmPw82xQkbsRwtmMWQ/s640/IMG_0533.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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In March of 2015, I bought a house. Before I'd even signed the papers, I had started dreaming of a summer housewarming party: lots of people milling through the backyard, the dim glow of moonlight and garland lights against suntanned skin making everyone look extra beautiful as they chatted and laughed over tacos and poured tart margaritas from giant jugs. A full eleven months later, late February of this year, I moved into my house. I had yet to buy a bed, the shelves on the kitchen wall had yet to be built, and the backyard was a jungle of weeds. The mix of over-the-top elation, exasperation, and gentle management of expectations has been constant.<br />
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Today, we're about six months past the move. I have a bed. The backyard is, for now, still a jungle. But last week, the shelves were finally, <i>finally</i> done. I'm the last person to rush the closing of summer, but this morning felt a little cooler than it's been lately (I mean, maybe 73 instead of 77). Staying in with a <a href="https://open.spotify.com/user/tannazie/playlist/6Rm7ZNP7vggHpoTHMAx5pO">playlist of the Head and the Heart and old REM</a> felt right. So did some quality time with my kitchen, making granola. A big batch that will sit in a giant mason jar on the shelf.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicAAz05-Pgi9JxxQDg3IB2w_wjZeEKUd7130p5YEyVyUBWtahzi11gObMyvSNfFy5btWi-TyTPGU7PBTAWM5UpnETnz-uNcUUqcTx3FzCoFSkrG9dr8kYBXUSgIMY_TUUzub92Aw/s1600/IMG_0524.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicAAz05-Pgi9JxxQDg3IB2w_wjZeEKUd7130p5YEyVyUBWtahzi11gObMyvSNfFy5btWi-TyTPGU7PBTAWM5UpnETnz-uNcUUqcTx3FzCoFSkrG9dr8kYBXUSgIMY_TUUzub92Aw/s640/IMG_0524.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
The first Friday after I moved into the house, I left my job at Dreamworks after nine years. The following Monday, I started a <a href="https://shotgunsoftware.com/">new job</a>. This new job is a work-from-home one. I'll spare you the process, and just say this: after months on a rollercoaster of nerves, I came out of it with a new sense of buoyancy. I stepped away from a comfortable job that didn't feel good anymore, and into a new one that feels right in ways the old one never did. I aced interviews, I negotiated salaries. I did it.<br />
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And then I started and I knew nothing. I felt as helpless as an infant. The first few months, I videoconferenced with my coworkers sitting on the floor at my coffee table because I had no desk (but then I did, and it was <a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BFzWwuPRCDG/?taken-by=tannazier">glorious</a>!). I was perplexed by the task of managing myself in my own home all day (though for real, it's the best). My office is about 5 steps from my bedroom. My closest coworker lives in Eagle Rock; my farthest lives in Melbourne. I love it, and it's bizarre. I'm learning.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinAXwQaFPSihv_LLCQ6UAyv9WuDxGiyPa0LJMNuYYsF46XRyCdQsPMtDUfQygN3ISH4GM9XY4gS3po7-Z1ZoEtDurVzTLEBl5wLUCD3gQAlwKMh_hOMJlE7aT-yXrZHc9QZqKYSw/s1600/IMG_0525.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinAXwQaFPSihv_LLCQ6UAyv9WuDxGiyPa0LJMNuYYsF46XRyCdQsPMtDUfQygN3ISH4GM9XY4gS3po7-Z1ZoEtDurVzTLEBl5wLUCD3gQAlwKMh_hOMJlE7aT-yXrZHc9QZqKYSw/s640/IMG_0525.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
All of this newness has been the biggest exercise in patience. I'm not a rash person; I don't make big changes often. For me, this transition is a pretty huge one. And changes like these bring with them so much expectation. For the last year and a half, my head has been filled with images of this new life: dinner parties and barbecues, winding down at the piano after a long work day, meals made with vegetables from my own garden, <a href="http://tannazie.blogspot.com/2006/06/book-auntie-mohtaram-and-one-last.html">recipe testing</a> in breaks from work. But first I need a piano, first I need that veggie patch to exist, first I need to actually be good at my job.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsHltMjeyl7yOG5DjS0Rm6OKNDwM0HPolOLdaZWbjvcHETJCQ3adgeZy7rXxAaeX70KFaxTcPWS2QlJJJttlCYVDIv_UEvCcIqrjkvSM9e68OIDj6ep2QY_CNg6Zj-k4a3xw0VWg/s1600/IMG_0518.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsHltMjeyl7yOG5DjS0Rm6OKNDwM0HPolOLdaZWbjvcHETJCQ3adgeZy7rXxAaeX70KFaxTcPWS2QlJJJttlCYVDIv_UEvCcIqrjkvSM9e68OIDj6ep2QY_CNg6Zj-k4a3xw0VWg/s640/IMG_0518.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chocolate buttercream on lunch break? Mais oui.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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But, don't get me wrong. It's happening. Things are shifting. In April, I picked elderflowers from the <a href="http://lariver.org/">river</a> path behind my street, and made amazing cordial for whoever came by all spring long. A few weeks ago, I took my first bike ride on the river path to Frogtown with a new neighbor. He was patient with my abject lack of bike prowess, and we had lunch at wonderful <a href="http://www.waxpaperco.com/">Wax Paper</a> (seriously guys, the Ira Glass, on <a href="http://www.bubandgrandmas.com/">Bub and Grandma's bread</a>, is the bomb): a small, wobbly triumph. I'm officially a regular at my <a href="http://proofbakery.com/">local cafe</a>, after one of the baristas recognized me out in the neighborhood. As of last week, the second bedroom/office is now available for houseguests and co-working. (Seriously! Come hang out!) A few small dinner parties and <a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/BDtqE2uRCF9/?taken-by=tannazier">pancake breakfasts</a> have happened, and now, when my sister's family makes the trek to the city, I have space to house her tall crew and a counter to spread with safe snacks for her celiac son and his siblings.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe2IzrDOlfht_mAObfc_0GEUs_HbzzYAOmiE9-MPQbTTK7c8kg-WH_LTrt9mTENQv_QhW-Uuki9euEeCmFTauQ8aSvSdrIqlr7yqOkhKxVtOZYqM9HrbDcawGM5-sYGUO2UnTwOQ/s1600/IMG_0505.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe2IzrDOlfht_mAObfc_0GEUs_HbzzYAOmiE9-MPQbTTK7c8kg-WH_LTrt9mTENQv_QhW-Uuki9euEeCmFTauQ8aSvSdrIqlr7yqOkhKxVtOZYqM9HrbDcawGM5-sYGUO2UnTwOQ/s640/IMG_0505.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Elderflower syrup, nascent stages.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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My new life and I are just getting started. Eventually, I'll have the piano, the dreamy yard where I can host friends and harvest tomatoes, a sense of mastery with my job. It's about making a home, and that's a process. Today, I have shelves. And a big jar of granola to put on them.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvWua844VGYRfwkMmQp1Zbm6OaP3HvRfGQqhkWuJmYmMkmWso2VhyphenhyphenjsKicFnlihyIbk2e_ZcDsy8udTqGyEzD8xJcnwOCx7j0wsbRBVGKDCgUpXrurDAr4kQf5T4gRfDXwUxl76g/s1600/IMG_0532.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvWua844VGYRfwkMmQp1Zbm6OaP3HvRfGQqhkWuJmYmMkmWso2VhyphenhyphenjsKicFnlihyIbk2e_ZcDsy8udTqGyEzD8xJcnwOCx7j0wsbRBVGKDCgUpXrurDAr4kQf5T4gRfDXwUxl76g/s640/IMG_0532.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Granola</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Makes about 7 cups</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Adapted from <a href="http://orangette.net/2012/01/i-am-here-to-tell-you/">Orangette</a></span><br />
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I've hewn close to the Early Bird recipe since I first saw it on <a href="http://orangette.net/2012/01/i-am-here-to-tell-you/">Orangette</a>. If your ingredients, especially your oats, are gluten-free, so is this recipe.<br />
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Like moving, like starting a new job, like life, it's a process: I'd like to hone it down to something I love as I make more batches. So, if you have secrets for your perfect granola, I want to hear them! <span style="text-align: center;">Today, I mixed up the nuts a bit and decreased the brown sugar. I want to try it with vanilla, and with cocoa nibs, and with coconut oil instead of the olive oil (oh wait, <a href="http://tannazie.blogspot.com/2014/11/coconut-ginger-granola.html">I have</a>).</span><br />
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3 cups old fashioned oats<br />
1 cup raw hulled pumpkin seeds<br />
¾ cup raw hulled sunflower seeds<br />
1 1/4 cup unsweetened coconut chips<br />
1 1/4 cup slivered almonds, whole almonds, and pecan pieces<br />
2 teaspoons dark brown sugar<br />
1 teaspoon salt<br />
¾ cup maple syrup, preferably Grade B<br />
½ cup olive oil<br />
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Preheat the oven to 300°F. Line a rimmed baking sheet with parchment paper.<br />
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In a large bowl, combine dry ingredients and stir to mix. Add the olive oil and maple syrup, and stir until well combined. Spread the mixture in an even layer on prepared sheet pan. Bake, stirring every 15 minutes, until the granola is golden brown and toasted, about 50 minutes. Remove the granola from the oven. Cool completely on a wire rack. Store in an airtight container.<br />
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<br />tannaz sassoonihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11896521823667685140noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27960200.post-39271153876809850362015-11-04T07:18:00.000-08:002015-11-04T07:18:18.878-08:00KolompehIn my head, masters are the people in old Italian paintings, the porcelain skin of their faces framed by frilly collars and antiquated hairstyles. It's harder to recognize a master in our midst. But I've come to believe that pastry chef Fariba Nafissi of <a href="http://zozobaking.com/">ZoZo Baking</a> is the real deal: Fariba is a true master of <i><b>kolompeh</b></i>.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjccGQSv2a1whjNhqwzUESbBM_jxJ9U7nKR-C81Ab2nM-FSwQNyeLrGquKsy040ubRgoY4WkdAn_tWgRBv254qXdk8_UhBSSj9x4wjBmf57nw7JjEwlneMEPN51R99lgctFjqVBPQ/s1600/IMG_0246.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="436" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjccGQSv2a1whjNhqwzUESbBM_jxJ9U7nKR-C81Ab2nM-FSwQNyeLrGquKsy040ubRgoY4WkdAn_tWgRBv254qXdk8_UhBSSj9x4wjBmf57nw7JjEwlneMEPN51R99lgctFjqVBPQ/s640/IMG_0246.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
I love a good food mystery. (I love <a href="https://gimletmedia.com/show/mystery-show/">a good non-food mystery</a>, too.) Asking people strange questions, slowly sleuthing together pieces of the puzzle – it's a journey possibly more fun than its destination. Baking <i>kolompeh</i> with Fariba started with a mystery. When my sweet friend <a href="http://naomisanders.com/">Naomi</a> first asked me about <b><i>ma'amoul</i></b>, an Arab cookie filled with a date and nut paste, all I could do was look at her blankly. But, later, I remembered that a woman from the city of Kermanshah whom I had interviewed for my <a href="http://tannazie.blogspot.com/2006/06/book-auntie-mohtaram-and-one-last.html">Iranian Jewish cookbook</a> mentioned making a type of date and nut filled cookie called <b><i>koloocheh</i></b> for Purim. An itch began to develop in my brain. Then, through the wonderful world of <a href="http://tannazie.blogspot.com/2014/10/jeweled-carrot-salad.html">Persian food bloggers</a>, I discovered Fariba, a pastry chef from the town of Kerman, whose specialty is <i>kolompeh</i>, yet another cookie filled with a date and nut paste.<br />
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<had class="" take="" the="" to=""></had>I convinced myself that there was a connection between these three, and so, chalking it off to cookbook research, I signed up to take a Persian baking class with Fariba. So, on a crisp, sunny day last December, I snatched up Naomi, an enthusiastic accomplice, and we made the trek to Fariba's home in Granada Hills.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4cOGHum6ExSl0h1ntc2A7eH9od2UQGGekmWFzPuGoxEC-BRSeweQFt3UrPSHvGZOwSS_NqxmTeQuelNVuB3VWV5QoJI-BbQ9ykKVVW06bdte_WX3S-UgPATE5a4wx_Te8waAPVQ/s1600/IMG_0214.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4cOGHum6ExSl0h1ntc2A7eH9od2UQGGekmWFzPuGoxEC-BRSeweQFt3UrPSHvGZOwSS_NqxmTeQuelNVuB3VWV5QoJI-BbQ9ykKVVW06bdte_WX3S-UgPATE5a4wx_Te8waAPVQ/s640/IMG_0214.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Naan-e berenji, rice flour cookies. Part of Fariba's Mehregan spread</td></tr>
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We were greeted with Fariba's big smile and a spread of homemade breakfast pastries and hot Persian tea to go along. A neighbor was taking the class with us, and later on, another showed up, with a gift of fresh eggs from her backyard chickens. Cozy. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJbH3s5i6XhyJcyL-5RLd9x10POPb-H4IBWwRpHC-UoZYCvdfrE5I0UOQ5n79UUe3EDVXwX9c78l8dd1EabmBQB9Vf9pMM7mEfEvCd1f6x-4CsnxTjdzNBsErbjX2Mg_Nw-3ZoLw/s1600/IMG_0220.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJbH3s5i6XhyJcyL-5RLd9x10POPb-H4IBWwRpHC-UoZYCvdfrE5I0UOQ5n79UUe3EDVXwX9c78l8dd1EabmBQB9Vf9pMM7mEfEvCd1f6x-4CsnxTjdzNBsErbjX2Mg_Nw-3ZoLw/s640/IMG_0220.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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Learning about <i>kolompeh</i> from Fariba was a lesson in her family's history. She spoke with such love about her own mother, from whom she learned this and so many other Kermani recipes. And she led us through her collection of <i>kolompeh</i> stamps: the oldest was a sturdy disc of solid wood, and had an intricate pattern depicting birds and flowers. This one has been <b>passed down for generations in her family, and is over a century old.</b> The next is the first to have a rudimentary handle carved into it, and to me, its paisley pattern was the most beautiful. The newest one, purchased on a recent trip to Iran, was machine-made, with a simple pattern of dots and lines and a glued-on handle.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tricks of the trade</td></tr>
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We took a few moments to get to know a bit of each other's stories before getting to work. Together we ground nutmeg, steeped saffron, and made a dense paste of walnuts and dates.
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mise en place</td></tr>
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Filling and stamping the cookies wasn't so hard, but Fariba's genius came to light at the next step: twisting the edges to seal the cookie's perimeter. When Fariba lays the the edge of a cookie between two fingers and twists, the resulting pattern is so perfect, you'd think it was made by machine. It's no wonder these beautiful cookies are her trademark. She paints a dot of golden saffron water on the center of each cookie, then sprinkles it with the bright green of ground pistachios. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe-HzRRNOWTMJUUO_haVswZ4wy8cPNVlZRaKfNmL57mpgIGwOGbwhyhL0auDl6zV5baWJRohlEo5EGz2OB_QSHi5vgcREDABPLczIYID9Vl-phyjWwmCgWpWo9A8O4y1a5i22PrQ/s1600/IMG_0239.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe-HzRRNOWTMJUUO_haVswZ4wy8cPNVlZRaKfNmL57mpgIGwOGbwhyhL0auDl6zV5baWJRohlEo5EGz2OB_QSHi5vgcREDABPLczIYID9Vl-phyjWwmCgWpWo9A8O4y1a5i22PrQ/s640/IMG_0239.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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You'd think a person with this level of expertise would be intimidating, but in this case, you'd be wrong. We tried futilely to emulate her perfect twists, but even when ours came out gnarly and inconsistent, she'd give an excited encouraging squeal with every cookie we made.<br />
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<div>
We finished off the day learning to make <i>nan-e-nokhodchi</i>, tiny flower-shaped sweets made with chickpea flour and cardamom, and <i>nan-e-berenji</i>, plump rice flour cookies topped with poppy seeds. With the touch of a pastry chef, these came out as dainty as dollhouse furniture.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Brewing saffron</td></tr>
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As beautiful as our cookies were, they were even more delicious. The <i>kolompeh</i> dough is unsweetened, so they're just sweet enough, and the warmly spiced filling goes perfectly with the buttery, flaky cookie. We were proud of our baking accomplishments, and had to keep ourselves from gobbling up cooking after cookie.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2Zvps1kGTXwPJoHyj8vZO7Wol7_8KDzMBsrbnWQIsrLVr2RtMFA9yf9QRcwYo9XM6V8KNV1Xk30bH-zLdXOgyAxkpUDyUXjajjpQbNnaJv83049rvORTSJNMkgmMeBAyXLmPnOA/s1600/IMG_0258.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2Zvps1kGTXwPJoHyj8vZO7Wol7_8KDzMBsrbnWQIsrLVr2RtMFA9yf9QRcwYo9XM6V8KNV1Xk30bH-zLdXOgyAxkpUDyUXjajjpQbNnaJv83049rvORTSJNMkgmMeBAyXLmPnOA/s640/IMG_0258.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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The vibe of our day was really special. Everyone came in with a curious spirit and an open heart, including our dear <i><a href="http://www.thefreedictionary.com/Ostad">ostad</a></i> herself. We felt her warm hospitality from the moment we walked into her home to the moment she saw us out, carrying bags and containers overflowing with delicious sweets, and our very own <i>kolompeh</i> stamps. <b>There's certainly esteem in mastery, but only when it comes with love is there transcendence.</b><br />
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Do check out Fariba's business website, <a href="http://zozobaking.com/" style="text-align: left;">Zozo Baking</a>. You can learn more about taking classes with her yourself, you can buy beautiful <i>kolompeh</i> stamps she brings in from Iran, or, you can leave the baking to her and order boxes of delicate <i>kolompeh</i> and other Persian sweets to adorn your table.</div>
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<br />tannaz sassoonihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11896521823667685140noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27960200.post-10995240238828096442015-10-12T06:30:00.000-07:002015-10-12T06:30:02.733-07:00A Taste of the EastI feel like I'm constantly ranting about how people always equate Jewish food with Eastern European food: matzoh balls and gefilte fish, bagel and lox. I didn't try matzoh ball soup until college, was introduced to lox at a weekend sleepover in elementary school (and thought it was really weird; <a href="http://tannazie.blogspot.com/2014/09/wexlers-deli-at-grand-central-market.html">I've come around</a>), and have yet to meet a gefilte fish I want to eat.<br />
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So, I wanted to share some photos from an event I participated in September. Having had so many "yes, I'm Jewish, and no, I never tried matzoh ball soup until college" conversations, I jumped at the chance to demo a traditional Iranian Jewish recipe at <b>A Taste of the East</b>, a night welcoming Rosh Hashana -- the Jewish New Year, with flavors from The Middle East and Mediterranean. It was a night of dinner, music, and storytelling, all celebrating the culture of Sephardic Jews.<br />
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I performed one of three demos of Sephardic Jewish food. Orly Olivier of <a href="http://petittakett.com/">Petit Takett</a> made Tunisian harissa, and Deborah Gorman of <a href="http://www.sorbabe.com/">Sorbabe</a> made bourekas–Turkish-Greek cookies filled with ground walnuts and dipped in a sweet syrup. And I made <i><b>faloodeh sib</b></i>–a refreshing combination of rosewater and shredded apples that is the traditional Yom Kippur fast-breaking food among Iranian Jews.<br />
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It was a great time. I'd never done anything like this before, but cooking and <b>chatting in an industrial kitchen with these ladies was a treat and an education</b>, and sharing my family recipes with a warm, interested crowd, while being schooled on some foods that were new to me, felt wonderful.<br />
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As people milled through the space, I stood at a table decorated with black and white photos of my grandparents and shredded apples against a box grater, and then added sugar, water, rosewater, and ice to perfectly balance the rosewater's intense aroma with just the right amount of sweet.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: right;"><span style="color: #444444; font-size: x-small;"><a href="https://twitter.com/30YearsAfter/status/641810870704566272">30 YEARS AFTER</a></span></td></tr>
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I had a couple friends, a few cousins, and my parents in attendance. I was really happy to have these familiar faces in the crowd when we arrived at the storytelling portion of the evening. I spoke about my uncle, a distinguished physician, affectionately known by his grandkids as "Lulu", who would leave Yom Kippur services at the synagogue early to go home and prepare <i>faloodeh sib</i> for his family. I wasn't the only one tearing up as we remembered this sweet man.<br />
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Recalling old memories of food and family, as we make new ones with new friends. More of this, please.tannaz sassoonihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11896521823667685140noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27960200.post-57809299366601894032015-10-10T13:17:00.000-07:002015-10-10T13:17:55.028-07:00Mom's Polo Shevid Baghali in Lucky Peach<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Those hands belong to my mom, Violet. She is halving <i>baghali</i>, fava beans, for one of my favorite dishes of hers, <i>polo shevid baghali</i>. I<b> am beyond thrilled to report that I got to cook this dish with her, and interview her about her own food memories, for the <i>Lucky Peach</i> website's "We Love Mom" column.</b> I've loved <i>Lucky Peach</i> magazine since its inception, but always had a problem with the boy's club vibe that came off its mostly male, mostly restaurant chef writing. This column is the opposite, as it celebrates traditional home cooking (though many of the moms, and other parents, profiled are far from traditional), and paints a broad ethnic picture of American kitchens today -- all with adorable old-school pictures of the writers and their moms. Suits me just fine; happy to be a part of it. <b>Check out my story <a href="http://luckypeach.com/violet-sassoonis-polo-shevid-baghali/">here</a>!</b><br />
<br />tannaz sassoonihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11896521823667685140noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27960200.post-57086629364662818582015-05-21T10:30:00.000-07:002015-05-21T11:16:36.403-07:00VietnamIn February, I spent two weeks in Vietnam. As much as I love to travel, I'd never made it to Southeast Asia, and none of my past adventures prepared me for this world. I frequently felt unequipped. I loved it.<br />
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<span style="color: white;">With the explosion of life on the sidewalks of Hanoi, markets of fresh produce laid out every</span><br />
<a name='more'></a>With the explosion of life on the sidewalks of Hanoi, markets of fresh produce laid out every few blocks or sometimes just on the back of a bicyle, chickens in the form we rarely see -- alive, romantic cobblestone streets strung with glowing lanterns in dreamy Hoi An, water buffalos and wild boars casually sharing space with tribal village kids in the misty hills of Sapa, and an entire nation preparing for <a href="http://tannazie.blogspot.com/2015/03/orange-almond-cake-with-candied-kumquats.html">the biggest holiday of the year</a>, sensory overload was constant.<br />
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<b>And wherever we went, we ate beautifully.</b> I got the sense that the country has a <i>mature</i> food culture. Beyond the perfect balance of flavors in pretty much ever dish we tasted, there seemed to be <b>a functional understanding of food</b>. A tour through Hoi An's market led us to the spice lady, and our guide described each item's benefits -- some offer heat, some are cooling, others heal an upset stomach or a sore throat. Some dishes are for winter, others for summer. A tiny bowl of a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/N%C6%B0%E1%BB%9Bc_ch%E1%BA%A5m">fish-sauce-based dressing</a> -- its salty intensity balanced with sugar, lime juice, and chili -- accompanied pretty much every meal. As did fresh herbs: a big plate of various basils, mint, etc. accompanying many meals was a comforting call-back to Persian <i><a href="http://www.cafeleilee.com/2012/07/persian-fresh-herb-mix-sabzi-khordan.html">sabzi</a></i> <i><a href="http://www.bottomofthepot.com/2013/08/a-platter-of-fresh-herbs-balancing-act.html">khordan</a></i>. And every morning began the same way: with strong, dark filter coffee smoothed out with sweetened condensed milk. I grew to crave it. I still crave it.<br />
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There was <i>so</i> much to grow enamored with on this trip. I could write pages and pages. To narrow it down, I'm going to focus on food, but man, even that's going to be hard. Anyhow, here we go.<br />
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Hanoi brings new meaning to eating locally. Produce markets can be laid out on a sidewalk, on the back of a motorbike, or like this case, in baskets slung over the shoulders of of the seller. The greens in this photo are pretty familiar to western eyes.<br />
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Whereas this bicycle vendor sells knobby, gnarly Buddha's hands, a staple in every temple's offering.</div>
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I had my first taste of the <a href="https://instagram.com/p/zMAVvqRCC0/?taken-by=tannazier">arrestingly beautiful</a> dragonfruit on this trip. Don't be fooled by appearances.</div>
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Baskets of citrus, chilis, and other aromatics on a sidewalk in Hanoi. The bright red ginger-looking roots in the foreground are fresh turmeric.</div>
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And next door, grains and chestnuts.</div>
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Chickens!<br />
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Madame-Hien-Restaurant/260238960680270">Madame Hien</a> in Hanoi felt like an oasis. French chef marries Vietnamese woman, applies French techniques to his mother-in-law's recipes. All in the lovely courtyard of a colonial building. These spring rolls were bright and fresh.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWUFdzIZ8mfPkfb5vhsdimj8N-_dTqeC9tcPMIzxXlhAzhkHf_FB9Nh8t75VSK3WhgQnpfd5A3PUOgJFR0HOI6sAcC5moJQCXnH2PtX9wofHro2nqrv1hb5dETmhnopJPRAgMOJw/s1600/IMG_2524.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWUFdzIZ8mfPkfb5vhsdimj8N-_dTqeC9tcPMIzxXlhAzhkHf_FB9Nh8t75VSK3WhgQnpfd5A3PUOgJFR0HOI6sAcC5moJQCXnH2PtX9wofHro2nqrv1hb5dETmhnopJPRAgMOJw/s640/IMG_2524.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.tripadvisor.com/Restaurant_Review-g293924-d1224274-Reviews-Bun_Bo_Nam_Bo-Hanoi.html"><i>Bun Bo Nam Bo</i></a>. Cold vermicelli noodles with beef, bean sprouts, crispy fried shallots, herbs, amazing fish-sauce dressing (<i>nuoc cham</i>). So cheap (as in, 75 cents for a beer), so good. Ruined me for stateside Vietnamese food forever.</div>
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<i>Cha Ca</i> Thang Long. Turmeric-marinated fish, mounds of fresh dill and scallions. Served with noodles, peanuts, chilis, cilantro, and another perfectly balanced <i>nuoc cham</i>. This dish with its turmeric, dill, and scallions brought to my mind the flavors of <i><a href="http://tannazie.blogspot.com/2008/03/sabzi-polo-happy-persian-new-year.html">sabzi polo mahi</a></i>, <a href="http://tannazie.blogspot.com/2015/03/orange-almond-cake-with-candied-kumquats.html">once again</a> bridging the gap from Persian New Year to Lunar New Year.</div>
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Tiny plastic benches on the sidewalk are a sure sign of something good. In this case, it's a cafe where all the Hanoi cool kids get their caffeine and peoplewatching fix.</div>
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<i>Banh cuon</i> are thin rice rolls filled with ground pork and woodear mushrooms, and topped with crispy shallots and lots of fresh cilantro.</div>
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<i>Bun cha</i> are charcoal-grilled pork patties served with vermicelli, fresh garlic and chilis, and of course, loads of fresh herbs and lettuces.</div>
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A sleeper train from Hanoi took us way north to <b>Sapa, a <a href="https://instagram.com/p/zEZI_JRCM5/?taken-by=tannazier">misty</a>, damp hill town</b> with abundant waterfalls, <b>friendly water buffalo</b>, and ethnic minority villages tucked into the valleys. The climate chilled us to the bone, but locals battled the cold with warm infusions. As soon as we stepped into our hotel, we were greeted with hot spiced apple cider, and at breakfast, this ginger lemongrass infusion thawed us out.</div>
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Breakfast in chilly Sapa. The only thing that could pull me out of my heated bed (Yes, that's right, <i>heated bed</i>.) was a steaming bowl of noodles.</div>
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Sapa feels run down and past its prime, but the <a href="http://www.thehillstation.com/signature-restaurant/">Hill Station Signature restaurant</a> is an immaculate exception. Focusing on the abundance of local produce, meats, and fish, at its center is a cozy wood-burning oven. Here I discovered <i>susu</i>, a pale green local vegetable that was bright, slightly nutty, and cooked perfectly.</div>
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Stewed eggplant and rice at Red Dao House in Sapa. The Red Dao are a local ethnic minority, and this restaurant was a delicious introduction to their cuisine.<br />
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<b>Hoi An!</b> After chilly Sapa, Hoi An -- southern, tropical, balmy, and alive with western tourists enjoying all the city offered -- felt like a different universe. Here's a family style meal at <b>Bale Well</b>, a no-nonsense restaurant with tables laid out across a back alley. Every table gets spring rolls, a huge mound of greens, pickled vegetables, rice papers, a thick, heavily flavored sauce, and meat grilled on lemongrass skewers. The friendly-but-not-too-friendly proprietress comes by to show you how to put it all together in a delicious, if heavy, roll. [<b>Pro tip:</b> if you see 'lime soda' or 'lemon soda' on a menu in Vietnam, it's just club soda with fresh lime or lemon. Delightful!]<br />
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Hai Cafe: Huge courtyard, tables full of white people, and all the food came from this tiny outdoor kitchen and this badass woman chef.<br />
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Hoi An has quite a few local specialties, and Trung Bac is a fun, kitschy place to try them all. Here are <i>cao lầu</i>, a noodle dish, and delicate white rose dumplings. </div>
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Grace under fire at Hoi An's central market.<br />
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The carrots in Vietnam are fat and bright and look like something out of a Beatrix Potter book. I love them.<br />
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Noodles galore at the market in Hoi An.<br />
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We took a <a href="http://msvy-tastevietnam.com/cooking-classes/">cooking class</a> in Hoi An, which included a tour of the market and hands-on instruction. I made this light soup with a little cabbage packet of minced shrimp.<br />
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And this <i>ban xeo</i>, a fried, eggy pancake with turmeric and coconut milk. The fruit on top is a slice of green banana.<br />
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And this amazing barbecued chicken over a green mango salad.<br />
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Traditional Vietnamese coffee, its bitterness balanced with sweetened condensed milk, was a treat we enjoyed every single day. But for classic espresso drinks, and beans to bring home, <a href="https://www.facebook.com/miacoffeehouse">Caffe Mia</a> was the spot. Local beans roasted right in the shop in this smiley roaster.<br />
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<a href="http://www.cocoboxvietnam.com/">Cocobox</a> handles Hoi An's hipster cafe/juicery needs. Cold pressed juices, fresh baked goods, lots of great food gifts, and this utterly refreshing lemongrass lime ginger iced tea.<br />
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A fancier rendition of Vietnamese coffee. Now that I'm home, my fridge has a few new inhabitants: sweetened condensed milk, coconut milk, and of course, stinky beloved fish sauce. (<a href="http://tomandlorenzo.com/2015/05/mad-style-person-to-person/">I hope they don't get too sad when I shut the refrigerator door.</a>) A couple weeks in Vietnam are nowhere near enough, but I think the best kind of travel leaves you curious for more. I'm certainly still hungry.<br />
<br />tannaz sassoonihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11896521823667685140noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27960200.post-81025701525382006682015-04-04T11:22:00.001-07:002020-12-14T10:41:27.674-08:00Scenes from an Iranian-American Passover SederI failed to take my good camera with me to my parents' house last night, but I had to share some quick phone snaps. It occurs to me how unfamiliar a lot of people are with the Passover dinner that I know. Nary a brisket, matzoh ball, or jellied, goopy ball of gefilte fish in sight.<br />
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Important distinction, in extremely broad strokes: there are two ethnic/geographic groupings of Jews: Ashkenazi and Sephardic. The former originate in Eastern Europe, the latter from the Middle East and the Mediterranean. Quick and dirty rule of thumb: Ashkenazi = white Jew, Sephardic = brown Jew. (Obviously, there are also Jews in Africa, East Asia, South Asia, and pretty much everywhere else. But for the purpose of this post, Ashkenazi is the mainstream, and Sephardic is how I'm distinguishing myself from it.)<br />
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Jewish food as its known in most of the United States has nothing to do with what I grew up with. Bagels and lox, pastrami on rye, knishes and the like all come from the Ashkenazi tradition. As a Sephardic Jew, and specifically an Iranian one, my cuisine matches where I come from: more spices and fresh herbs and vegetables, lots of sweet and sour flavors from using fruit in our savory dishes, and at this time of the year, the best distinction of all: unlike Ashkenazis, Sephardic Jews eat rice during Passover. Because we might starve otherwise.<br />
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Here are a few shots from my parents' house last night.<br />
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Fresh almonds to greet guests. Green and fuzzy, crunchy and tart.</div>
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Each year for Passover, my mom buys the best nuts she can find, and washes, salts, sun-dries, and roasts them herself. I've never had a better hazelnut (or forty) and I'm not above cherry-picking for them, especially if my sister is looming over my shoulder. Last night, my mom served a mix of pistachios, hazelnuts, and almonds in this gorgeous silver bowl from Iran, inherited from my paternal grandparents.</div>
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Meanwhile, in the kitchen, my Auntie Mohtaram, my <a href="http://tannazie.blogspot.com/2006/06/book-auntie-mohtaram-and-one-last.html">mom's oldest sister</a> prepared <i>nargesi</i> -- an eggy casserole of fresh herbs and tiny meatballs* -- as her daughter, granddaughter, and great-grandson looked on.<br />
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Three <i>kuku sabzis</i>, on deck. Among Iranian Jews, you use <i>kuku sabzi</i> -- a bright herby frittata with crisped edges -- for a memorial blessing. Passover corresponds with the anniversary of the death of my maternal grandmother, so we remember her each year with <i>kuku sabzi</i>.<br />
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Whereas Ashkenazi Jews use horseradish as their bitter herb, we have a bitter lettuce (though admittedly this year's romaine was not the most bitter choice). Where Ashkenazi Jews dip parsley in saltwater, we dip the pale inner stalks of celery into vinegar. Our haroset recipe, long ago handwritten by my paternal grandfather for each of his kids, is a balanced blend of several nuts, fruits, spices, and wine. Though we no longer grind meat at home, my dad pulls out the hand-crank meat grinder every year to give the haroset its perfect texture. And yes, Maxwell House <a href="http://blogs.kcrw.com/whichwayla/2015/04/the-ever-evolving-passover-haggadah">hagaddah</a>. I mean, come on, we're still Americans.<br />
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Oh, we also <a href="https://instagram.com/p/XTmDbvRCDB/?taken-by=tannazier">run around the table whipping each other with scallions</a>.<br />
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The full dinner spread -- almost. You'll note that we're not even done setting the table, and there is already <i>tahdig</i> -- the crispy saffron rice from the bottom of the pot -- in people's plates. We really are polite people; it's just that hot of a commodity.<br />
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However you're celebrating, and whether you're celebrating, here's to expanding our worldview and eating well -- and at best, both at the same time.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">* Note that Iranian Jewish nargesi, for whatever reason, is totally different dish rom the Muslim dish of the same name, though the latter <a href="http://www.mypersiankitchen.com/nargesi-esfanaj-persian-spinach-egg/">looks delicious</a> as well. </span>tannaz sassoonihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11896521823667685140noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27960200.post-50131722342329203812015-03-16T00:28:00.001-07:002015-03-25T16:44:47.602-07:00Orange Almond Cake with Candied KumquatsI've <a href="http://tannazie.blogspot.com/2011/03/we-jumped-over-fire.html">talked before here</a> about the fact that I celebrate New Years three times each year: on January 1, on Rosh Hashana, and on Norouz, the Persian new year. This year, there's a fourth.
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I spent the second half of February in Vietnam (more on that soon), and was lucky enough to be there for the preparations and celebration of Tet, the Lunar New Year. So, this year, I've got a glut of opportunities to reflect and start fresh. <br />
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With Norouz fast approaching, as I sat thinking about what I could make for the holiday, my mind kept drifting back to Vietnam. Lunar New Year is all-encompassing there: in bustling Hanoi, blocks-long flower markets were set up in the streets just for the two weeks before New Year. In Hoi An's ancient city -- a charming area where balconied restaurants line a romantic river boardwalk -- glowing lanterns hung across every street and all of the city's teens came out to play carnival games on a midway built just for one night, then they tightly crowded the banks of the river to watch as an over-the-top fireworks display marked midnight.<br />
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And everywhere you went, you saw kumquat trees. The golden fruits represent prosperity and good luck, so every home, museum, and shop seemed to have at least one on display. One of our favorite sights from the trip was motorbike after motorbike with an entire tree (or ten) propped teeteringly on the back as it revved through Vietnam's teeming traffic.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpTIsfJt44BGbIEko0SMou7YewVk6z4imkWW7LXxeJzHEFebrFJx-jaVJ7F-3PXOkHn0wnMALtSexFwMPvUfsXDL7DDl0GFSwQKJEnaBSUJiylq5P__lk_TtmTANiisJLFQBIhqg/s1600/IMG_0305.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpTIsfJt44BGbIEko0SMou7YewVk6z4imkWW7LXxeJzHEFebrFJx-jaVJ7F-3PXOkHn0wnMALtSexFwMPvUfsXDL7DDl0GFSwQKJEnaBSUJiylq5P__lk_TtmTANiisJLFQBIhqg/s1600/IMG_0305.jpg" height="640" width="640" /></a><br />
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Spring seems to have come early to the east side of Los Angeles. At night, it smells like jasmine outside, and everywhere, loquat and citrus trees are already heavy with fruit and fragrant flowers. And thousands of miles from southeast Asia, kumquats are in season in Echo Park. I know this because at a dinner party a few weeks back, not one but two guests from Echo Park brought dishes made with kumquats from their own backyards. So I asked one of those very people if I could ransack their tree for some, and decided to pile little sunshiney pinwheel slices on top of a cake scented with orange blossom water, bringing a little of the Lunar New Year into my Persian New Year celebration this year.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg13ukaR063VeGjRPvpPcbvNvebIKLx6wNN-AgQpO3WLEJ2ToQAnwefpZh46wRh8Fiuhbbp8hIv5BnjoY743b_jvFHTZvQCVLeTFnHq4Yg3bwg9YrLkAVmybfaeJO9pQ4T8f31psg/s1600/IMG_0304.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg13ukaR063VeGjRPvpPcbvNvebIKLx6wNN-AgQpO3WLEJ2ToQAnwefpZh46wRh8Fiuhbbp8hIv5BnjoY743b_jvFHTZvQCVLeTFnHq4Yg3bwg9YrLkAVmybfaeJO9pQ4T8f31psg/s1600/IMG_0304.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a><br />
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And although the fruit that's most prominent in the <i><a href="http://tannazie.blogspot.com/2007/03/happy-norouz-to-you.html">haftsinn</a></i> is apple, preparing a sweet citrus cake for Norouz is not entirely farfetched. The <i>mahi</i>, or fish, in the traditional Norouz meal of <i><a href="http://tannazie.blogspot.com/2008/03/sabzi-polo-happy-persian-new-year.html">sabzi polo</a> mahi</i> is often prepared with Seville oranges or other citrus. And the orange blossoms that scent the cake are known by the lovely name of <i>bahar narenj</i> in Persian: "spring orange". So what better way to mark the first day of spring than with a cake redolent of the fragrance of spring citrus?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwFc2NUnIinEkELj3psNKHFJ5leHboA0pSCeoiXX7lcvewKApTutmd-M26_KmD0D7bI1DJj10fRJtx9vaveCi4ypJe4heaZrUPYwaYi4NEJbrXEvEyWdtlr2H7pw_II4P9Be-mQA/s1600/IMG_0297.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwFc2NUnIinEkELj3psNKHFJ5leHboA0pSCeoiXX7lcvewKApTutmd-M26_KmD0D7bI1DJj10fRJtx9vaveCi4ypJe4heaZrUPYwaYi4NEJbrXEvEyWdtlr2H7pw_II4P9Be-mQA/s1600/IMG_0297.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a>I didn't have orange blossom water on hand, but I jotted a quick text to my Tunisian next door neighbor, and before I knew it, a bottle was waiting for me on my balcony chair. (I have the best next-door neighbor ever, and this balcony chair delivery system has been the source of many delicious drop-offs. Today, I returned her bottle via balcony-chair-delivery, along with a fat slice of this very cake it helped make.)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrN7v_90v6Dn3I-rod9A-Zdgs6ArPwZQmUJdGFNcQLKTH1gFz7IIYq8w0bwLN0o8neNZr7x8GLJaOnMShIw2Krb2K-Qx1CE3UHmveoX2PAu_-tLGcYNgp1WeFx97cjb0kgD908wQ/s1600/IMG_0293.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrN7v_90v6Dn3I-rod9A-Zdgs6ArPwZQmUJdGFNcQLKTH1gFz7IIYq8w0bwLN0o8neNZr7x8GLJaOnMShIw2Krb2K-Qx1CE3UHmveoX2PAu_-tLGcYNgp1WeFx97cjb0kgD908wQ/s1600/IMG_0293.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a><br />
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I pulled my orange cake recipe from my very favorite cookbook, Claudia Roden's <i>Book of Jewish Food</i>. So, (ready?), this Judeo-Spanish Passover cake with a French name and a Vietnamese-inspired topping from a Chinese holiday, prepared for a Persian holiday (phew!) is classic <a href="http://mashupamericans.com/">American mashup</a>. The recipe has you boil two whole oranges -- peel and all! -- until they're soft. You pull out the seeds and puree the whole thing, then add it to an almond-meal-based batter. I respectfully took some liberties with Ms. Roden's recipe: dialing down the sugar, throwing some kumquats in the mix, whipping the egg yolks and whites separately for a lighter cake, and adding a bit of salt. Then I topped the whole thing with kumquats candied quickly to maintain their cheery form and color. And to boost that color, I threw in another Persian ingredient: the tiniest touch of saffron.<br />
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The result was just what I was hoping for: a bright, fragrant cake with a moist, almost pudding-like texture. The bracing tartness of the kumquats balanced the cake's sweetness perfectly, and the cake actually brought the beguiling scents of spring into the kitchen.<br />
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This blog has been around for many years, and we've celebrated quite a few Norouzes here. We've covered the basics now: the haftsinn, beautiful fragrant <a href="http://tannazie.blogspot.com/2008/03/sabzi-polo-happy-persian-new-year.html">sabzi polo</a>, even <a href="http://tannazie.blogspot.com/2011/03/we-jumped-over-fire.html">jumping over fire</a> in the days leading up. So, I hope you'll indulge me as I go rogue this year. Sure, it's not traditional to pull from Vietnamese culture for a Persian holiday, but when non-traditional looks and tastes like this, who's to object?<br />
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Fortunately, the rest of the Persian food blogging community has my back. Once again, they've gotten together to create a veritable feast of sweets and savories, from traditional to experimental, all with stories, photos, and much wisdom to impart about this beautiful holiday. Links are at the bottom of the post: please do browse around! Wishing you both Norouz Mobarak and Chúc Mừng Năm Mới: whichever way you say it, Happy New Year!<br />
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<b>Excited to report:</b> This recipe was featured on one of my favorite sites, <a href="http://mashupamericans.com/">The Mash-Up Americans</a>. Check it out <a href="http://www.mashupamericans.com/food/tannazs-orange-almond-cake-with-candied-kumquats/">here</a>.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Orange Almond Cake with Candied Kumquats</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Adapted from Claudia Roden's <i><a href="http://books.google.com/books/about/The_Book_of_Jewish_Food.html?id=vTMEcRsWBMQC">Book of Jewish Food</a></i> and <a href="http://www.thekitchn.com/bittersweet-baking-finalist-1-41541">The Kitchn</a></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Makes one 9-inch diameter cake</span><br />
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After the initial long boil of the oranges, this cake comes together quite quickly. It also happens to be gluten-free, as well as dairy-free, which makes it a natural choice for Passover, which is just a few weeks away. Be sure to slice your kumquats fairly thick, so they maintain their shape and don't get floppy. I went with store-bought almond meal, but you can make this with blanched almonds that you grind yourself.<br />
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<b>the cake:</b><br />
2 oranges (I used one blood orange, one navel)<br />
6-10 kumquats (optional)<br />
5 eggs, separated<br />
1 cup sugar<br />
2 Tbs orange blossom water<br />
1 tsp baking powder<br />
1/2 tsp salt<br />
2 cups almond meal<br />
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<b>the candied kumquats:</b><br />
3/4 cup sugar<br />
1/2 cup water<br />
Pinch ground saffron<br />
2 cups kumquats, sliced into thick rounds, seeds removed<br />
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Wash the oranges and kumquats, and boil them whole in a pot of water for about 1 1/2 hours, or until they are very soft. Once they're cool enough to touch, cut them open and remove seeds, and puree in a food processor.<br />
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Preheat oven to 350F.<br />
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In a large bowl, whip egg whites until they form soft peaks.<br />
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In another large bowl, combine egg yolks, sugar, orange mixture, orange blossom water, baking powder, and salt. Add almond meal, and stir to combine. Gently fold egg whites into batter.<br />
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Oil bottom and sides of a 9-inch springform pan, and dust with more almond meal. Pour batter into pan, and bake for 45 minutes.<br />
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While the cake bakes, prepare the kumquats: In a small saucepan, combine sugar, water, and saffron and bring to a boil. Add kumquats, bring back to a boil, then lower heat to medium. Simmer until kumquats are barely translucent, about 7 minutes.<br />
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To serve, use a slotted spoon to pour kumquats over cake, then a non-slotted spoon to pour the remaining glaze over cake and kumquats.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOfUXJfaUuT0yzhVx9ml1D0f2sZ4t44OmN5mMQz9RAvPs2szwjyq6fTLLNd_urdJE2DowmpTM6lEM3ZqT9XCXZKDVt2qMkivGTK5RZx1kA3UEXdqFsJO37ESwueNIe9wV22wEWRw/s1600/IMG_0318.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOfUXJfaUuT0yzhVx9ml1D0f2sZ4t44OmN5mMQz9RAvPs2szwjyq6fTLLNd_urdJE2DowmpTM6lEM3ZqT9XCXZKDVt2qMkivGTK5RZx1kA3UEXdqFsJO37ESwueNIe9wV22wEWRw/s1600/IMG_0318.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a><br />
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tannaz sassoonihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11896521823667685140noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27960200.post-9988802968266969292015-01-30T18:30:00.000-08:002015-03-18T21:28:47.041-07:00Black Eyed Peas at Sabzi<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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As Sara over at the beautiful blog <a href="http://www.sabziblog.com/">Sabzi</a> is swamped with grad-schooly things right now, she asked me to write a guest post, requesting something Iranian Jewish and wintry. This black eyed pea recipe resembles what Iranian Jews eat on Rosh Hashana, but also calls back to the tradition of black eyed peas for the New Year in the US south. And a big pot of beans simmering away is imminently wintry. Head over and <a href="http://www.sabziblog.com/guest-post-black-eyed-peas/">check it out</a>; hope it helps keep you warm.tannaz sassoonihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11896521823667685140noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27960200.post-71017663346399518052015-01-15T08:13:00.000-08:002015-01-15T08:13:09.671-08:00Real Talk 3: Accountability<i>Part 3 in a series. I've employed some practices, and have had some things on my mind, that I'm really excited about, and I'd like to share them here. Not all directly food- nor LA-related, though food certainly weaves through these stories. I'm calling it Real Talk, though in a less lofty moment, I could just as well have called it Better Living Through Google Docs.<br />
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<i><a href="http://tannazie.blogspot.com/2014/02/real-talk-1-gratitude.html">Real Talk 1: Gratitude</a></i><br />
<i><a href="http://tannazie.blogspot.com/2014/03/real-talk-2-mindfulness.html">Real Talk 2: Mindfulness</a></i><br />
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Guys, it's mid-January. That greyish time when already, we start feeling the wearing of the newness. We use all the tools we have: denial, active resistance, sheer force of will, to try to get it back. Now, I come into 2015 with optimism. I have some lofty goals for the year (more on that later. maybe.), and one actually reasonable one, involving <a href="http://www.mnn.com/lifestyle/arts-culture/blogs/7-cultural-concepts-we-dont-have-in-the-us">friluftsliv</a> (who's in?), but as much as I love that fresh, invincible resolve of the first days of January, resolutions themselves have always felt a little flimsy to me. <br />
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Fortunately, I have a secret weapon. At the start of 2012, feeling a little boxed in by the strict declarativeness of resolutions, I figured out an alternative that works for me. I'd like to talk to you today about a little something I call the Hour of Power.<br />
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My issues with the old way of dealing with resolutions stem not just from their lack of fluidity, but from the lack of accountability. I am notorious for not finishing what I start, and it frustrates me endlessly. I'm more interested in a way to keep tabs on things I want to achieve as they arise throughout the year, rather than coming up with a few simple resolutions in one day. <br />
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So, I've come up with a system with two simple components. First, <b>I decided to schedule a weekly meeting with myself.</b> I schedule in an distraction-free hour, every Wednesday from 8:30-9:30, which is devoted completely to the second item, The List.<br />
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<b>The List.</b> Ah, the list. The list is everything. The list, as they say, is life.* The core of this practice is a list, contained in the cloud, accessible at all times, with everything in it. This includes grand plans and visions, as well as mundane to-dos. <b>The key to the List is to update it the moment you remember something.</b> No need, at that time, to go into detail, but jot down the item. I started my list in Google Docs, but last year moved it to a site called <b><a href="https://workflowy.com/">Workflowy</a>, </b><blahblah description=""> which I love. It's just a few seemingly simple tweaks away from a text file, but perfect ones. I recommend it.</blahblah><br />
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<b>The Hour of Power.</b> My meeting with myself. These are the grounds. Each is crucial:<br />
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<b> - <i>Use a different chair.</i></b> I do most of my computering on the couch. A messy morass of Facebook, Sporcle, IM, all the distractions, every night. The Hour is special, and requires a shift in environment. I spend it on an armchair that's slightly less comfortable. Play music if you want; pour yourself a cup of hot tea. Remove yourself from children and other distracting people, and shut the door**. <br />
<b> - <i>Open a new browser window.</i></b> It's impossible to plan life, for me anyway, without the internet. But for the Hour, I minimize all the nagging tabs, log out of IM, and start clean. This window will have just a few tabs: The List, my calendar, email, and maybe a couple others as necessary. I'm mindful to not get sucked into a wormhole though. Discipline.<br />
<b> - <i>Go through the list.</i> </b>Address each item. If something needs fleshing out, add subtasks. Go into as crazily minute detail as you need. If you're not sure where to start, come up with a baby step. Consider talking to someone. (And then of course, add talking to that someone to the list, and schedule it in.)<br />
<b> - <i>Get shit done.</i></b> If a task is to send an email, look up the hours for a business, find someone's mailing address, this is your time to do it. Sometimes, in the time it would take to add an item to the list, you can just knock it out.<br />
<b> - <i>Schedule in first steps.</i></b> If a task can't be done immediately, schedule it. Need to make a phone call during business hours? Put it in your calendar for 10am the next day. Set an alarm.<br />
<b> - <i>Reward small victories.</i></b> Strike through things as you complete them. Bask for a moment. Doesn't that feel great?<br />
<b> - <i>Reward large victories.</i></b> Maintain the list of complete tasks. With <b>Workflowy</b>, you can toggle hiding completed tasks. With a regular doc, shift them to the bottom. But don't delete them. Look at them every once in a while. You've accomplished so much.<br />
- <i><b>Keep at it.</b> </i> Keep. At. It. And don't get discouraged. Even the Great Wall of China is nothing but bricks.<br />
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I don't consider myself an organized person -- <a href="http://www.wisebread.com/fifteen-minutes-of">I was tagged a slacker early in life</a> -- and it takes major effort for me to keep things from falling through the cracks on a regular basis. But my little Hour of Power has been such an effective thing for me. I can't say that I accomplished every single thing I set out to do when I started this practice, because honestly that'd be impossible. But I have accomplished a lot (so many strikethroughs!), I'm pinned to a path, and with every hour, every item, I'm making progress. <br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">* I recognize the white-girl-problems nature of using a line from a Holocaust movie to describe my self-organization method. But after years of saying it to, and hearing it from, <a href="http://zeography.com/">a friend</a> for whom The List is the closest thing to religion, the phrase has had its original meaning hollowed out, and it's an important piece of our shorthand.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">** Yeah, right, parents of small children are gonna be able to get an hour of uninterrupted time to themselves. I know, super challenging. But I feel like parents are superheroes of efficiency and could actually knock this out in 30 minutes.</span><br />
<br />tannaz sassoonihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11896521823667685140noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27960200.post-2264437090202509582014-12-18T00:32:00.000-08:002014-12-18T00:32:05.002-08:00Cardamom Almond Hot ChocolateIt's a strange concept, longing for something you've never known. But that's how I feel about <i>korsi</i>. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinE6CgAJWjl_GOZN0QROoOSkCqZJ_KoEM6RFgluOyX2-BS6ND_Ua3aOTkZH3KIDc3MOLd70gcVSnp8U_G4PgWSlFyyOOwnySl7Vu8p_uGeR2wM_BD4EPWYSy454q76zqnm1YLQCg/s1600/IMG_0205.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinE6CgAJWjl_GOZN0QROoOSkCqZJ_KoEM6RFgluOyX2-BS6ND_Ua3aOTkZH3KIDc3MOLd70gcVSnp8U_G4PgWSlFyyOOwnySl7Vu8p_uGeR2wM_BD4EPWYSy454q76zqnm1YLQCg/s1600/IMG_0205.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a><br />
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Sunday night marks the winter solstice, the first night of winter, the longest night of the year. It's a night that, among Persians, is celebrated, and is known as <i style="text-align: start;">Yalda.</i> As is pretty much always the case, you celebrate with food: on the night <i style="text-align: start;">Yalda</i>, you stay up late and eat bright, juicy, sweet things like pomegranate and watermelon, tightly holding on to the last bits of summer into the final moments before winter takes over.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_Q0S6vGkO92TdYLFmJyzaA_NQwGEwR-0K3pSFoZbhCrKVl74MvugTGWcxjnMswzBD3Txm0O5GzZOReOTCV4leMxKQ1-2QztLNRdlrupp0EEyszW3QRiQTFkunXFCAWJJn5W64Rg/s1600/IMG_0200.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_Q0S6vGkO92TdYLFmJyzaA_NQwGEwR-0K3pSFoZbhCrKVl74MvugTGWcxjnMswzBD3Txm0O5GzZOReOTCV4leMxKQ1-2QztLNRdlrupp0EEyszW3QRiQTFkunXFCAWJJn5W64Rg/s1600/IMG_0200.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a><br />
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We've had pretty much an entire year of summer here in Los Angeles, though, so I'm beyond ready to welcome winter. So, as I read about <i>Yalda</i>, all those bright colors fade into the background, and only one word pops out, pulling my eyes to it: <i>korsi</i>.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidS0KzVe88tI0RBV14LMgcuxzgZYGK20Gt8w7_07oC0ry1HD_P5RCDPGCZrZO4WSaBJtCw9z34uApz1YV65GV5imq0GGIOuLMJ656dAzbNnw37jysFFpmtDcMQLPl3sXTgBz8vCg/s1600/IMG_0192.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidS0KzVe88tI0RBV14LMgcuxzgZYGK20Gt8w7_07oC0ry1HD_P5RCDPGCZrZO4WSaBJtCw9z34uApz1YV65GV5imq0GGIOuLMJ656dAzbNnw37jysFFpmtDcMQLPl3sXTgBz8vCg/s1600/IMG_0192.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a><br />
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<i>Korsi</i> is to me the purest embodiment of coziness. Imagine a small table, draped with a big, heavy blanket that fall long over the sides. Underneath the table, a coal heater burns. Everyone crowds around the table, sitting on the floor and tucking themselves under the blanket. And then, all together, the <i>korsi</i> sitters, held together by the draw of warm, toasty feet, might share snacks, tell stories, smoke hookah, or play cards. And on the night of <i>Yalda</i>, as if this vignette weren't charming enough, you stay up until the wee hours of the chilly night, choosing a page at random from a page of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hafez">Hafez</a>'s poetry to take as your fortune for the days to come. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKlpB_o5Z8xzcebXARgvtYebA7JCNynmXz4EXnat4jDyiMdMipaP8WyGbmc-40JwhyphenhyphenArvZ1TsSXy57YybJFEXyT09_nUYlcAkVpzSMPavQvmuPwUCdkNiMtxDWXQtPkIOohnmw4A/s1600/IMG_0196.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKlpB_o5Z8xzcebXARgvtYebA7JCNynmXz4EXnat4jDyiMdMipaP8WyGbmc-40JwhyphenhyphenArvZ1TsSXy57YybJFEXyT09_nUYlcAkVpzSMPavQvmuPwUCdkNiMtxDWXQtPkIOohnmw4A/s1600/IMG_0196.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a><br />
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<i>Korsi</i> is something I've never experienced, but based on the stories I've heard from my parents, it's one of the things from Iran I have the most longing for -- I know I'd love it. How could you not?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSq3qKTkT89oGR7P4HIlvIguVGyPzQl5ye7SVkiSir1SgmIGCq_m1kaQscBx32uH9u8RWHN-HvkFjJyL5jt4IqeA3_l139isZ9HJvzV2W34OcVOVdS3_o9xtzmpg9MlqzKBnX0hA/s1600/IMG_0204.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSq3qKTkT89oGR7P4HIlvIguVGyPzQl5ye7SVkiSir1SgmIGCq_m1kaQscBx32uH9u8RWHN-HvkFjJyL5jt4IqeA3_l139isZ9HJvzV2W34OcVOVdS3_o9xtzmpg9MlqzKBnX0hA/s1600/IMG_0204.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a><br />
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So, <i>Yalda</i>, you can keep your raging against the dying of the light, you can have your tight, needy grip on the summer's brightness. As winter begins (and yes, winter in Los Angeles will probably be mostly sunny anyway), I embrace the coziness of <i>Yalda</i>. And while I have no <i>korsi</i> to gather around, I can have that other thing that springs to mind when the nights turn cold and I'm seeking peak coziness: hot chocolate.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy4Gdgc4NEaikg-TedgfvmD46JiFYKdTYxE_YrjClpmym-aXt41Uwnvf_YyYR18JT1PTmvCdVHcEqWtC9bPGMt9VquYrg-ngFM7k5IqssPNr8bsQJZfnwPPWhxpPV5qmlD3t1JQw/s1600/IMG_0201.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy4Gdgc4NEaikg-TedgfvmD46JiFYKdTYxE_YrjClpmym-aXt41Uwnvf_YyYR18JT1PTmvCdVHcEqWtC9bPGMt9VquYrg-ngFM7k5IqssPNr8bsQJZfnwPPWhxpPV5qmlD3t1JQw/s1600/IMG_0201.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a><br />
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In addition to fruit, you'd typically find a bowl of <i>ajeel</i>, or mixed nuts, on the <i>Yalda</i> table, and as a nod to that, I'm flavoring my cocoa with almond extract. I'm also adding a bit of cardamom to give it a distinctive Persian fragrance. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHZRHIJI9Oy_nNmXOG7lgmA6jqwrdDvcMNgTJM2kwAesyRPVqxIC_mMFTUw9QEJGUrrJ9NX6OL4GbsY5rjDp28rtvTWa8wdx5r95OJomn0CirG4PmQnb_v5AgRuX_-BXQi3UJmaQ/s1600/IMG_0206.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHZRHIJI9Oy_nNmXOG7lgmA6jqwrdDvcMNgTJM2kwAesyRPVqxIC_mMFTUw9QEJGUrrJ9NX6OL4GbsY5rjDp28rtvTWa8wdx5r95OJomn0CirG4PmQnb_v5AgRuX_-BXQi3UJmaQ/s1600/IMG_0206.JPG" height="425" width="640" /></a><br />
So, as the days grow longer, but the nights grow colder, in the absence of <i>korsi</i>, I'll find my warmth and coziness, and a bit of sweetness, elsewhere. And I'll offer you this bit of wisdom from Hafez to get you through your own long <i>Yalda</i> night, with confidence that it's absolutely true for each of you, lovely readers: "<b>I wish I could show you when you are lonely or in darkness the astonishing light of your own being."</b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpLMxrYUFFMcACfL7CV0HcO3mAE6ubbcKC-B1fcbuVhSg-RLWnzVQI990UfqAtIEA2tQQ32tYTQD3WhDb3bXSGD4_4Xlwi_2WIHeiGE0OqRB5UvWN1X7fk8f-2AH2j2vxAWBj4Ug/s1600/IMG_0194.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpLMxrYUFFMcACfL7CV0HcO3mAE6ubbcKC-B1fcbuVhSg-RLWnzVQI990UfqAtIEA2tQQ32tYTQD3WhDb3bXSGD4_4Xlwi_2WIHeiGE0OqRB5UvWN1X7fk8f-2AH2j2vxAWBj4Ug/s1600/IMG_0194.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a><br />
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[<b>Note: </b>I didn't go the traditional route with my <i>Yalda</i> posts, but fortunately, a lovely group of Persian food bloggers have also participated in this <i>Yalda</i> feast with delicious dishes, history, and memories of their own (including a photo of a <i>korsi</i> in action in Coco's post). Be sure to scroll to the bottom of the post for the full roundup.]<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Cardamom Almond Hot Chocolate</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Makes 2 servings</span><br />
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If you want to go a boozy route, you can replace the almond extract with 2 oz of almond liqueur. You can also replace some or all of the milk with almond milk to really drive the almond point home.<br />
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3 cardamom pods<br />
2 1/4 C milk (2% fat or more)<br />
2 heaping Tbs. cocoa powder<br />
2 oz good-quality chocolate (I like 70%), broken into small pieces<br />
1/2 - 1 tsp sugar<br />
pinch of salt<br />
1/8 tsp almond extract<br />
marshmallows for serving<br />
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Bash up cardamom pods in a mortar and pestle until the skin opens up and black seeds inside are exposed. In a small saucepan, bring milk and cardamom to a boil over medium high heat. Watch the pot, as it will quickly boil over. <br />
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Lower heat to low, and cocoa powder, sugar, chocolate, sugar, and salt. Whisk vigorously to combine thoroughly, making sure to scrape from the bottom to fully incorporate chocolate as it melts.<br />
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Increase heat to medium, and bring back to a boil for about a minute. Remove from heat and add almond extract. Serve with a marshmallow in each mug.<br />
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tannaz sassoonihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11896521823667685140noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27960200.post-21224373226337441512014-11-30T20:33:00.000-08:002014-12-01T13:26:25.149-08:00Coconut Ginger GranolaI've been meaning to make granola for months. Today I reached granola critical mass.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0p9FKSSWZillPJ03QfMWz4ZWQ8iiNIXLxd8YXKoDi2u_HRxBXWF8SpUjed1oRAYQfcGaQ62c2-bx5QhuTi50cgD_4b3cZp1nbJA5O3wEWfvCpO-H2AF745-voqgGGqG3WoKSe4w/s1600/IMG_0145.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0p9FKSSWZillPJ03QfMWz4ZWQ8iiNIXLxd8YXKoDi2u_HRxBXWF8SpUjed1oRAYQfcGaQ62c2-bx5QhuTi50cgD_4b3cZp1nbJA5O3wEWfvCpO-H2AF745-voqgGGqG3WoKSe4w/s1600/IMG_0145.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a><br />
It's a four-day weekend and everyone's out of town. After a seeming eleven months of summer, it's grey and raining outside. A few weeks ago, when I made <a href="http://instagram.com/p/vNXGF9xCLE/">fesenjoon</a> and had friends over to watch <a href="http://edition.cnn.com/video/shows/anthony-bourdain-parts-unknown/season-4/iran/index.html">Bourdain in Iran</a> (Did you watch it? Did you also discover that it in fact <i>was</i> possible to love him more than you already did? Did you watch Vice's even-more-awesome 3-part <a href="http://munchies.vice.com/videos/the-munchies-guide-to-tehran-part-1">Munchies Guide to Tehran</a>?), <a href="http://snerko.com/">a friend</a> brought me some homemade granola, and it reminded how satisfying homemade granola is. Then, over at Sabzi, Sara wrote <a href="http://www.sabziblog.com/granola/">this evocative post</a>, with those photos in that cozy cold-weather light. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbdfss6B_VLx0qa0mDkeGRH2FBHEfAtaw0iQ8N_-qEIEm2qeFk5Joos-uVSYmRhouG6bLDc6hzoAMCHzNjabcwrXwb8nFyKsvuCofc3b2QttYZuauQ7SfzyHLsxjO61y1lVr3QIw/s1600/IMG_0141.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbdfss6B_VLx0qa0mDkeGRH2FBHEfAtaw0iQ8N_-qEIEm2qeFk5Joos-uVSYmRhouG6bLDc6hzoAMCHzNjabcwrXwb8nFyKsvuCofc3b2QttYZuauQ7SfzyHLsxjO61y1lVr3QIw/s1600/IMG_0141.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a><br />
You guys, I ate so much in the last week. It wasn't just Thanksgiving (though, <a href="http://instagram.com/p/v7INIBRCDa/">my goodness</a> was it Thanksgiving), it was amazing slices at <a href="http://tannazie.blogspot.com/search?q=%22golden+state%22">Jim and Jason</a>'s newest Fairfax spot, <a href="http://primepizza.la/">Prime Pizza</a> (followed by Scoops at Golden State, natch), it was three servings of truffle mac and cheese at work, it was In-n-Out for dinner, <a href="http://tannazie.blogspot.com/2008/12/on-air-raid-sirens-and-apple-pie.html">Grandma Nanny's apple pie</a> for breakfast...just a bad scene. An extremely delicious bad scene.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXoSyxgA1RZmXqZ07nW7dz8E66GrTKSv4wZB9LrwpYW5TFFIWuJ8xVH2QQm1VZE7DCIDyYnGZwkZlOkq0pzwMKR_GzQZCcKOcTPOtMyAhhF2Oa-CIzbBvdJ5bMmd3La8YQGwHU7A/s1600/IMG_0149.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXoSyxgA1RZmXqZ07nW7dz8E66GrTKSv4wZB9LrwpYW5TFFIWuJ8xVH2QQm1VZE7DCIDyYnGZwkZlOkq0pzwMKR_GzQZCcKOcTPOtMyAhhF2Oa-CIzbBvdJ5bMmd3La8YQGwHU7A/s1600/IMG_0149.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a><br />
And in my case, this kind of marathon gorging leads to sore throat and Harvey Fierstein voice. Really sexy. Everything I read about what to eat to combat a sour stomach led me to two places: ginger and oatmeal. And that's been guiding my diet the last few days: ginger-miso soup with leftover turkey, chai-spiced oatmeal with fennel seed, ginger, and cardamom, and lots and lots of ginger tea.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipsibEr0pX-C6JBp1Yl3DIaqq70oinlLD8WvZQFKXYzM-Bj6njBV9jrBIJVAHb8L96E_UH8IWlfII2vT_5jeDVTfKKNTyHO_-p0dceJS4zBWnPWyKM1cPUXr0ROP8FZbOIY8yNsw/s1600/IMG_0151.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipsibEr0pX-C6JBp1Yl3DIaqq70oinlLD8WvZQFKXYzM-Bj6njBV9jrBIJVAHb8L96E_UH8IWlfII2vT_5jeDVTfKKNTyHO_-p0dceJS4zBWnPWyKM1cPUXr0ROP8FZbOIY8yNsw/s1600/IMG_0151.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a><br />
And this. Finally, today, I made granola. I started with the Early Bird / Orangette recipe, the same one I was gifted, the same one Sara used, the same one I always make, because it's empirically the best. But, I went a little "island" with it: in addition to adding both fresh and powdered ginger, I replaced the olive oil with coconut oil, the brown sugar with coconut sugar. And I sprinkled the finished product with fresh lime zest. A little "<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VQ0hrHx4Zkc">lime in the coconut</a>" action. And as usual, I left it in the oven as long as possible. Admittedly, this technique leads to some casualties, but a couple pecan burn victims are well worth the deep flavor you get as the granola really browns.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6z2VqeBkEQ1mOuwFR93ePxcWaJBVd_fRfsWmLiZbkDMwXvXeiFcPxHUe6gyz0NUcjIJKZLSenqp_YWID6Bf2lmjdUqbZ-nKm0fdErGovO7fDHhZtPjr1zcW7DhHdqPe8_3pHU7A/s1600/IMG_0152.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6z2VqeBkEQ1mOuwFR93ePxcWaJBVd_fRfsWmLiZbkDMwXvXeiFcPxHUe6gyz0NUcjIJKZLSenqp_YWID6Bf2lmjdUqbZ-nKm0fdErGovO7fDHhZtPjr1zcW7DhHdqPe8_3pHU7A/s1600/IMG_0152.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a><br />
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The result was great. It had all the familiar toastiness of the original recipe, with brighter pops throughout from the lime and ginger. And the lime and ginger go really well with the coconut. The best part of the process was adding the lime zest: it audibly sizzles and hisses <a href="http://instagram.com/p/wCM6mVRCH-/">(!!!)</a> as it hits the hot granola. I think the original recipe remains my go-to for every day, but when you need something special to brighten a grey day, throwing some ginger and lime flavors into a coconutty granola is a good way to go. <br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Coconut Ginger Granola</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Makes about 7 cups.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Adapted from <a href="http://orangette.blogspot.com/2012/01/i-am-here-to-tell-you.html">Orangette</a>.</span><br />
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The coconut oil will solidify at room temperature, so once you've added it, keep the mixture moving, and get it to the baking sheet quickly.<br />
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3 C old-fashioned oats<br />
1 C pumpkin seeds<br />
1 C sunflower seeds<br />
1 1/4 C unsweetened coconut flakes<br />
1 1/4 C pecans, halved or chopped (I used a combination, as that's what I had on hand)<br />
1 tsp salt<br />
2 tsp ground ginger<br />
2 Tbs grated fresh ginger<br />
2 Tbs ground flax meal (optional)<br />
1 tsp vanilla extract<br />
1/2 C maple syrup<br />
1/3 C coconut sugar<br />
1/2 C coconut oil, melted<br />
zest of one lime<br />
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Preheat oven to 300F. Line a rimmed baking sheet with parchment paper. <br />
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In a large bowl, mix first ten ingredients (oats through vanilla) to combine evenly. Add maple syrup and coconut oil, and stir to thoroughly combine.<br />
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Spread mixture evenly on prepared baking sheet. Bake, stirring every 15 minutes, until the granola is deep brown, about 45 minutes. Remove from heat, and add lime zest. Allow granola to cool before stirring lime zest through. Store in an airtight container.<br />
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<b>A note on gluten:</b> I've added the gluten-free label to this post. If you avoid gluten, you'll know better than I do to read labels to be extra sure. But, if you make this with gluten-free oatmeal, then the recipe is gluten-free.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7dqlZVDFZVwMZv6499e3MGc21Dhsn_Px9hpDNLjY_Gyr7K2rDvYDjfGT4QSnkl5Ias1K0qgw8YV_D-hAKrNbx91W7M512AG5cmksNNS6j778av-9w3Cb9S4xnZj7MPWHhM0zo_Q/s1600/IMG_0150.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7dqlZVDFZVwMZv6499e3MGc21Dhsn_Px9hpDNLjY_Gyr7K2rDvYDjfGT4QSnkl5Ias1K0qgw8YV_D-hAKrNbx91W7M512AG5cmksNNS6j778av-9w3Cb9S4xnZj7MPWHhM0zo_Q/s1600/IMG_0150.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a><br />
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<br />tannaz sassoonihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11896521823667685140noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27960200.post-44679034503301979992014-11-19T15:20:00.000-08:002014-11-29T16:40:10.370-08:00Maple Apple Yogurt Cake<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I think I'm gonna write a manifesto. <i>Mein Cake</i>, maybe.</div>
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Hear me out. I feel like there are constantly people who are trying to tell you that you can muck around with recipes when you're cooking on the stove, but when you're baking, God help you if stray a hair from the recipe: your cake will explode, your friends will turn on you, and you'll have bad sex for seven years.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjafsjMvJ4OvYZ8FQ_quYS6OczYgc7jf7-BV_Vv1S8ZsFWidBxFnm34gd0aF3iADeJ1P6RgzEc3KE7mZ6IzoBoaebWLSEKveDXrr1Jzl6_FhLUGcQl7Nj9grRjyeLTXh4EYWedPMw/s1600/IMG_0118.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjafsjMvJ4OvYZ8FQ_quYS6OczYgc7jf7-BV_Vv1S8ZsFWidBxFnm34gd0aF3iADeJ1P6RgzEc3KE7mZ6IzoBoaebWLSEKveDXrr1Jzl6_FhLUGcQl7Nj9grRjyeLTXh4EYWedPMw/s1600/IMG_0118.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a><br />
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Enough of this dogma. There's a better way, people. I don't think I've ever followed a recipe verbatim, and I have a lot of reasons for this. For one, I feel like the pursuit of perfect recipe replication is flawed: your apples might be bigger, your salt might be saltier, and if your'e cooking in my kitchen, your oven will definitely be hotter than the recipe developer's.<br />
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The writer of the recipe likely doesn't know that I don't have scallions right now, but that a frizzy mess of chives is growing on my balcony. She doesn't know about the leftover brown rice wearing out its welcome in my fridge, and she'll never know when I replace her spinach with the gorgeous chard I found at the farmers market on Saturday.<br />
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She also didn't have my tastes in mind when she developed the recipe. I sneak in extra vegetables. I like more vanilla. I'll pull back heat. And when it comes to desserts, I like them knobby, dark with ingredients like brown sugar and whole wheat flour, and ugly: I'm not one for fussy pastry perfectionism (thought I'll gladly consume it if you make it for me). I like my baked goods less sweet and more substantial. Wholesome and haimish.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCszUUyzbVl4C0JpeRfLa153cAOmme8bdhGxSFc1B_ijx9_LfjwNdMbrWZeyyolRtZFwS4ujUxZMOC9wV9pD6WhKO61KMiUccYxXkRT2QjVoxL8tCNpzD4mFm5wb7yQC6MCHG-Bw/s1600/IMG_0121.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCszUUyzbVl4C0JpeRfLa153cAOmme8bdhGxSFc1B_ijx9_LfjwNdMbrWZeyyolRtZFwS4ujUxZMOC9wV9pD6WhKO61KMiUccYxXkRT2QjVoxL8tCNpzD4mFm5wb7yQC6MCHG-Bw/s1600/IMG_0121.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a><br />
But most importantly, if I'm just going to clone something that already existed, I really don't see the point. Tinkering in the kitchen is what makes cooking a <i>creative</i> process for me. The point is to express a bit of myself in a dish.<br />
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So, when I ended up with some apples, some yogurt, and a couple hours free a few Saturdays ago, I decided I needed to make an apple cake, recipe or no. I wanted as much of the good stuff -- big chunks of apple and walnuts -- as possible, barely held together by a whole wheat batter sweetened with maple syrup and some coconut sugar I'd purchased for <a href="http://tannazie.blogspot.com/2014/10/harissa-cauliflower-sloppy-joe-cooking.html">Corinne's recipe</a>. <br />
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The end result totally hit the spot. Moist, substantially apple-y, and just as good for breakfast as it was for a snack. Baking tyrants, get out of the way. The revolution is coming, and it smells a lot like cake.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhedzNF15B-KdFlyOTxokv9eT0WkvVgu8GxtLroJwd1lQv3feDjD1tu4ri-a2jInIYa0hBPC9x8vwzryfC3Kq1balnvjT-_dKxJQ6fCe02kf6_-yklEKnUryzrb5935mcZw30BKmw/s1600/IMG_0124.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhedzNF15B-KdFlyOTxokv9eT0WkvVgu8GxtLroJwd1lQv3feDjD1tu4ri-a2jInIYa0hBPC9x8vwzryfC3Kq1balnvjT-_dKxJQ6fCe02kf6_-yklEKnUryzrb5935mcZw30BKmw/s1600/IMG_0124.JPG" height="446" width="640" /></a><br />
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<b>First, an apology:</b> This post was originally written as I was baking, straight from impulse, totally unforced, seemingly perfect, nearly ready to publish. Then, an unfortunate keystroke in the blogger interface led to that perfect post being deleted forever in an instant, taking a little of my heart with it. I was paralyzed with indignance, and the blog suffered for it. I'm back.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Maple Apple Yogurt Cake</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Loosely adapted from <a href="http://www.bakeaholicmama.com/2013/09/greek-yogurt-whole-wheat-maple-apple.html">Bakeaholic Mama</a></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Makes 8 servings</span><br />
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1 Tbs ground flax seeds<br />
3 Tbs water<br />
1/2 - 2/3 C walnut pieces<br />
1/2 C applesauce OR 1/2 medium apple + 1/2 tsp cinnamon<br />
1/3 C yogurt<br />
1/3 C olive oil<br />
1/4 C coconut sugar, or other sugar of your choice<br />
1/4 C maple syrup<br />
1 egg<br />
1 C whole wheat flour<br />
1 tsp baking powder<br />
1/2 tsp baking soda<br />
1/4 tsp salt<br />
1 tsp cinnamon<br />
1/2 tsp nutmeg<br />
1 1/2 C diced apple (I prefer Granny Smith or other tart, crisp variety)<br />
butter or oil to grease pan<br />
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Preheat oven to 350F.<br />
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Mix flax meal with water in a small bowl, set aside for at least 5 minutes.<br />
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Meanwhile, toast walnuts in a pan over medium heat, shaking or tossing frequently, until just fragrant.<br />
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If you are making applesauce, peel 1/2 apple and process in food processor with cinnamon to applesauce texture.<br />
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In a large bowl, mix applesauce, flax mixture, yogurt, sugar, maple syrup, olive oil, and egg to combine. Add flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, cinnamon, and nutmeg. Stir to just combine. Add walnuts and diced apples and incorporate evenly through batter. <br />
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Grease a standard loaf pan and pour batter into it. Bake until toothpick comes out clean, about 30 minutes.<br />
<br />tannaz sassoonihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11896521823667685140noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27960200.post-24872278634338919032014-10-24T09:30:00.001-07:002014-10-24T10:45:57.119-07:00Harissa Cauliflower Sloppy Joe: Cooking with Corinne RiceHave I got a treat for you today. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxKCgsb9-oLKRStbeXdjCAco6qJiBK9OH5qtmIG8MEIl5oyUFPe4spxqE3bEm_LxL8-wLHd7XVOKTdZqLt7izVn9Nog90wytT4syBYv6VUnrOT9O-ZJRKsg-C6tgDOC6AaI_Lutw/s1600/DSC_0593+(3).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxKCgsb9-oLKRStbeXdjCAco6qJiBK9OH5qtmIG8MEIl5oyUFPe4spxqE3bEm_LxL8-wLHd7XVOKTdZqLt7izVn9Nog90wytT4syBYv6VUnrOT9O-ZJRKsg-C6tgDOC6AaI_Lutw/s1600/DSC_0593+(3).JPG" height="562" width="640" /></a></div>
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One of my favorite things to do through this blog is <a href="http://tannazie.blogspot.com/2014/08/buckwheat-waffles.html">cook</a> <a href="http://tannazie.blogspot.com/2014/07/coconut-caipirinhas.html">with</a> <a href="http://tannazie.blogspot.com/2012/02/panacea-gravlax.html">others</a>. It's always a learning experience, it's a lovely way to socialize, and is the perfect antidote to <a href="http://tannazie.blogspot.com/2014/10/jeweled-carrot-salad.html">screaming mouse syndrome</a>. <br />
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I recently became part of a particularly awesome Facebook group called <i><b>inspired women of los angeles</b></i>. It's a place where a photographer might seek a make-up artist for a shoot, an artist might ask if anyone knows of a space to show her work, where someone going through a rough patch might seek a little help, or someone feeling especially moved might offer some words of inspiration. The spirit of collaboration is strong with this group. So, when a member posted a few photos from <b>her dabblings in food styling</b>, and they were totally amazing and professional and gorgeous, I had to reach out.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiukyP8Amo6BF_O7MyUZUxjSXMmseT2HiOXyuSY3OX2Jd9KrhMbG1LOV0nHwExeevWVS7jjO4SFr3696htO3ftQIiWqNUEb0WdHcpMt2fzTmrXdypaQJ6N4UcmbTWLP1ZTt6EmeKw/s1600/IMG_0091.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiukyP8Amo6BF_O7MyUZUxjSXMmseT2HiOXyuSY3OX2Jd9KrhMbG1LOV0nHwExeevWVS7jjO4SFr3696htO3ftQIiWqNUEb0WdHcpMt2fzTmrXdypaQJ6N4UcmbTWLP1ZTt6EmeKw/s1600/IMG_0091.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a></div>
I suggested a collaboration, and a few emails later, I was standing outside an apartment in Venice, groceries in hand, no idea who or what to expect. I shouldn't have worried. The door opened, and there was <b>Corinne Rice</b> -- line drawings tattooed on her arms, a mop of black curls, and a sparkly smile -- greeting me with a hug.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJUpiL-su-HpuhQVZh62RvhHdRPRj9hoHOR7eNtldb1vqSBo16T3d06XdepQXKDO8KwuKduGYyWB0ClcWx52j0ruhzfm0QPglyGLFFJyhiBMXPf8_Yzsl-dcbf_HGrpKwXgQ-BiA/s1600/IMG_0065.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJUpiL-su-HpuhQVZh62RvhHdRPRj9hoHOR7eNtldb1vqSBo16T3d06XdepQXKDO8KwuKduGYyWB0ClcWx52j0ruhzfm0QPglyGLFFJyhiBMXPf8_Yzsl-dcbf_HGrpKwXgQ-BiA/s1600/IMG_0065.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a><br />
<a href="http://www.corinnerice.com/">Corinne Rice</a> does a lot of things. She is a mostly-vegan chef, with a deep emphasis on nutrition. She hosts pop-up dinners around Venice (with one coming up <b>this Sunday</b>. Details at the end of the post), she does private health coaching, and is working on healthy living workshops and classes for busy moms to learn to make baby food and 10-minute meals (she's mom to a flirty one-year-old named Atlas herself). She's also self-publishing a cookbook, which will feature her plant-based recipes and will be filled with her gorgeous photos. Look out for it in early 2015.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9aAMqqTiuEF-kjpXBLX0p4rfBpooGNKaFmZdOqAS_VXm1IilUHCpfCw6RV7u45pUO6FIJlzYpzqE2DdZ_NsNzr27weGjQqP2UUpTigmQyVUKvBygMynIz4xy2sumtpxs_K_H1ZQ/s1600/IMG_0056.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9aAMqqTiuEF-kjpXBLX0p4rfBpooGNKaFmZdOqAS_VXm1IilUHCpfCw6RV7u45pUO6FIJlzYpzqE2DdZ_NsNzr27weGjQqP2UUpTigmQyVUKvBygMynIz4xy2sumtpxs_K_H1ZQ/s1600/IMG_0056.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a>
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The recipe she chose for us to cook together was one from the upcoming cookbook. We made a cauliflower-based sloppy joe, the foundation of its flavor being a fiery harissa. As she described the recipe, as well as others she was developing, I at first had trouble wrapping my head around the flavors. Her cooking doesn't really sit in one cuisine or other: Middle Eastern flavors might share the plate with say, southeast Asian ones. She uses a heavy hand with spice, and her unusual flavor combinations straddle sweet and savory. By the end of the afternoon, though, I trusted that even her strangest-sounding ideas would taste great.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCHPzKPO44jDHOMqlsdl4HYReEtXjn7L6c8mx5zU4YYshRFY2soM2F8ljla9vPk_Eqlr15QAU4h_yiKQvOIJYzwyiNYanhDuBoTaXJXtKQZXibdzeqgfPZTL_uzKac2AT5S3OVMQ/s1600/IMG_0060.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCHPzKPO44jDHOMqlsdl4HYReEtXjn7L6c8mx5zU4YYshRFY2soM2F8ljla9vPk_Eqlr15QAU4h_yiKQvOIJYzwyiNYanhDuBoTaXJXtKQZXibdzeqgfPZTL_uzKac2AT5S3OVMQ/s1600/IMG_0060.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a><br />
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As we cooked, we talked, and it was such a treat to be able to go deep on things I've always wondered about. Corinne turned to nutrition as a way out of dark times, and since tackling addiction, she's immersed herself in that world. Her knowledge of how what we consume affects our bodies is encyclopedic and thorough. I asked about different ethnic diets purported to be the key to long life (real commonalities between high life-expectancy groups: sweet potatoes, wine, <i>self-love</i>). I expressed how overwhelmed I can get with conflicting information about what to eat (her sage advice: every body is different, be mindful and intuitive and find what works for you).<br />
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Corinne moves easily in her narrow kitchen, jotting down every measurement as she develops a recipe, adjusting her notes as she tastes and polishes measurements. She's made great use of her space, adding shelves below the counter where she stores every spice imaginable in blue mason jars.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9TtfPhS3n8lrxaKI2s84b3gHQ4dtVu292j2rrQ6My3tNSNRtZ70uA8IxDXfPU3baLyu82_mKfk-WgEeFjlqTTRzbx4ZitVgh8fDzOAvLyi4Bdoym6JqR-sOWbEoWctn0JvLSlJw/s1600/IMG_0061.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9TtfPhS3n8lrxaKI2s84b3gHQ4dtVu292j2rrQ6My3tNSNRtZ70uA8IxDXfPU3baLyu82_mKfk-WgEeFjlqTTRzbx4ZitVgh8fDzOAvLyi4Bdoym6JqR-sOWbEoWctn0JvLSlJw/s1600/IMG_0061.JPG" height="425" width="640" /></a><br />
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I'm no stranger to cauliflower as a meat substitute in recipes, as the delicious Buffalo cauliflower at <a href="http://mohawk.la/menu/">Mohawk Bend</a> has made me a believer. Of course, beyond some nominal resemblances to traditional sloppy joe, there wasn't much similarity. But, it didn't matter. The dish had a complex flavor, with heat and brightness from the harissa (her recipe included preserved lemon and fresh mint), and a rich, slightly sweet base of tomatoes and red bell pepper. With beautiful millet bread from Culver City's <a href="http://www.risingheartsbakery.com/">Rising Hearts Bakery</a>, it made a filling and satisfying meal.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpgH83neyt-VYXeWAASsQORW1DcyYBSeF0Lc9zdDIe5SDbf9dS-778Jmny5CGzZA1JyCwTqB31lk-BvFiWz-C4y6ZuHfWHN9-IuNrrbLsy1-qyzJMVbk8hIMBaaKtJd5vAi27RaQ/s1600/IMG_0084.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpgH83neyt-VYXeWAASsQORW1DcyYBSeF0Lc9zdDIe5SDbf9dS-778Jmny5CGzZA1JyCwTqB31lk-BvFiWz-C4y6ZuHfWHN9-IuNrrbLsy1-qyzJMVbk8hIMBaaKtJd5vAi27RaQ/s1600/IMG_0084.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a><br />
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Her styling is meticulous. She places an old wood table in the light of a corner window in her bedroom, and fills it with beautiful things picked up from here and there: vintage plates, an artfully placed cheesecloth, an air plant pulled from a hanging in the house. With just the natural light and a tall tripod bought used, Corinne creates moody, lush images.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzvmwbLVCEE2zP4ZqzYRedOHVplwrB4iLEjxigYRuKnnRACEjt3_0jwsQE7vOydtxp_xKa_3OY9191NZOGacoTTvRawNtGfdWklp3B4QoGBDKxB-BNE9BMUiTsRavqzc5UfMjuYw/s1600/IMG_0078.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzvmwbLVCEE2zP4ZqzYRedOHVplwrB4iLEjxigYRuKnnRACEjt3_0jwsQE7vOydtxp_xKa_3OY9191NZOGacoTTvRawNtGfdWklp3B4QoGBDKxB-BNE9BMUiTsRavqzc5UfMjuYw/s1600/IMG_0078.JPG" height="640" width="640" /></a><br />
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Aside from our main course, she was excited to share a <b>green curry coconut latte with basil whip</b>. The drink was at once familiar and strange, warm and comforting. Corinne has a professional whipped cream dispenser bottle, and <b>got downright giggly dispensing pale green basil-scented whipped coconut cream directly into our hands</b>. And rightly so: it was delicious. Here's her photo of the lattes; recipe will be in the book.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq7VFT8sbBQVmLvJxi4wzLhnt4vFNWbx6lFtypkmg2KbXa-wzgmu6RUOITb5m64iRZjPZY5O2DfHQfGxse62XbYTGVi1kFud3pFS_ZUIE3V8TNNuK0EQOLV4os2rAB_DVjT17Saw/s1600/DSC_0629+(2).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq7VFT8sbBQVmLvJxi4wzLhnt4vFNWbx6lFtypkmg2KbXa-wzgmu6RUOITb5m64iRZjPZY5O2DfHQfGxse62XbYTGVi1kFud3pFS_ZUIE3V8TNNuK0EQOLV4os2rAB_DVjT17Saw/s1600/DSC_0629+(2).JPG" height="640" width="430" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small; text-align: start;">First and last photo by Corinne Rice.</span></td></tr>
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After cooking, we took baby Atlas up to the roof and dined, the sun warming us, and a wholesome hand-made meal nourishing us. <br />
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Here are some ways to keep up with Corinne:<br />
- <b>Catch her <a href="http://www.corinnerice.com/#!zoetic/cwa6">pop-up supper club</a> this Sunday.</b> The menu is pretty mindblowing (fennel gelato, what?)<br />
- Follow her on <a href="https://www.facebook.com/corinnericewellness">Facebook</a> and <a href="http://instagram.com/corinne_a_rice">Instagram</a>.<br />
- Or just start at her <a href="http://www.corinnerice.com/">website</a>.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Harissa Cauliflower Sloppy Joe</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Recipe by Corinne Rice</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Makes 5-6 servings</span><br />
<br />
<b>Harissa</b><br />
3 oz dried chilis of your choice (chipotle works great; we used cascabel, and the skins were a little hard to break down)<br />
1 teaspoon caraway seeds<br />
1 teaspoon coriander seeds<br />
1 teaspoon cumin seeds<br />
1 cup olive oil<br />
2 cloves garlic<br />
2 Tablespoons preserved lemon<br />
3 Tablespoons mint<br />
1/2 teaspoon salt<br />
<br />
Soak the chilis for 3-4 hours. Strain and then remove the stems and seeds.<br />
<br />
Toast the caraway, coriander and cumin seeds on a dry skillet over medium heat for 4-5 minutes, swirling the pan constantly.<br />
<br />
Combine all ingredients in a food processor or high powered blender until it forms a creamy paste.<br />
<br />
<b>Sloppy Joe</b><br />
2 Tablespoons coconut oil<br />
1 yellow onion, thinly sliced<br />
2 cloves garlic, crushed or finely chopped<br />
3 cups tomato sauce (with no added sugar)<br />
2 medium tomatoes, diced<br />
1 head cauliflower, finely chopped<br />
1 red bell pepper, chopped<br />
1/4 cup coconut sugar<br />
3 Tablespoons red wine vinegar<br />
2 teaspoons steak seasoning<br />
1/4-3/4 cups harissa paste (see note)<br />
salt to taste<br />
basil to garnish<br />
<br />
In a saucepan over medium heat, combine coconut oil, garlic, and onion. Sautee until onion is translucent, about 5-7 minutes.<br />
<br />
Add the remaining ingredients and cook for about 30 minutes or until the cauliflower has become very soft, resembling a similar texture to ground beef.<br />
<br />
Serve the sloppy joes over your favorite gluten free bread. Garnish with basil.<br />
<br />
<b>A note on harissa:</b> Depending on how spicy your harissa paste is and how hot you want the sloppy joes, you may want to add more or less.<br />
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<br />tannaz sassoonihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11896521823667685140noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27960200.post-9984979553933224692014-10-09T00:03:00.001-07:002014-10-10T08:45:01.598-07:00Jeweled Carrot Salad: The First International Mehregan Cyber-feast<div class="p1">
You guys, I'm pretty excited today. I feel like I've quietly made something happen, and this post marks it. You see, I'm very proud of my little blog, but sometimes when I post here, I feel like a tiny mouse yelling out in a huge hall. I might be saying something good, but who can hear? </div>
<div class="p1">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7GXEEJf7Mf7EbB0mPLiKvtN3qWVdVRLjJMVUfLc9v1wr2qj0dhq4XvQaCCThpyTZhmC5rYy6m1YNLIgNqnTJjjAnxBplcszxZh335d5ZPTMPBjEwg0sWxCdQpBSsqwAG4QN2TEw/s1600/IMG_0107.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7GXEEJf7Mf7EbB0mPLiKvtN3qWVdVRLjJMVUfLc9v1wr2qj0dhq4XvQaCCThpyTZhmC5rYy6m1YNLIgNqnTJjjAnxBplcszxZh335d5ZPTMPBjEwg0sWxCdQpBSsqwAG4QN2TEw/s1600/IMG_0107.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a><br />
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<div class="p1">
I've wanted to explore writing about Persian food more, and with <a href="http://tannazie.blogspot.com/2006/06/book-auntie-mohtaram-and-one-last.html">cookbook dreams</a> having lately re-emerged from deep hibernation (!!), I knew I need to establish expertise, and to find people who cared about it. After <a href="http://www.thrillist.com/eat/los-angeles/best-la-persian-restaurants">my Thrillist post</a> in July on LA's best Persian food, I started noticing that out in the world, there exists a network of Persian food bloggers. They're out there. I decided I wanted to be part of this world, but how could I do it with the little mouse voice?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwr7GPaszsbP9adRsZI4CpqYp3U1VPPlMPuVHL06ybzE-PUmZJbbakDmA34GU2QaCTvbjcBRnXNMISQLakggY5XvVKtlGqr2fV0cefJvlNbJEG39AcklL4Yquy-Gbj5t9JOj3k4A/s1600/IMG_0025.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwr7GPaszsbP9adRsZI4CpqYp3U1VPPlMPuVHL06ybzE-PUmZJbbakDmA34GU2QaCTvbjcBRnXNMISQLakggY5XvVKtlGqr2fV0cefJvlNbJEG39AcklL4Yquy-Gbj5t9JOj3k4A/s1600/IMG_0025.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a><br />
<br />
Over the last few months, I made a couple one-on-one inroads: I started commenting back and forth with a grad student in Minneapolis named Sara with a blog called <a href="http://www.sabziblog.com/">Sabzi</a> (she'd found me through <a href="http://www.bonappetempt.com/">Bon Appétempt</a>, bless her heart), and I had a few tentative <a href="http://twitter.com/tannazie">Twitter</a> interactions with Azita of <a href="http://figandquince.com/">Fig and Quince</a>, an artist in Brooklyn whose comprehensive and sweetly rendered Norouz posts had caught my eye back in March. Mouse voice rising.<br />
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<div class="p1">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxQSJL0z2K1UUhdOxar0ToEObMK9v9-p2Ye9sR-9Ql8SlwTrX9FXFBYVpnBf2zzJWQdwwA64XGgxRaorYQFcpsbU-KCBn0trmdxjBkoRUO87VsplCmEZmXMwv4FtDwkdooQ2wzfw/s1600/IMG_0102.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxQSJL0z2K1UUhdOxar0ToEObMK9v9-p2Ye9sR-9Ql8SlwTrX9FXFBYVpnBf2zzJWQdwwA64XGgxRaorYQFcpsbU-KCBn0trmdxjBkoRUO87VsplCmEZmXMwv4FtDwkdooQ2wzfw/s1600/IMG_0102.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a><br />
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<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">So you can imagine my delight when recently, </span>I was brought into a Persian Food Bloggers' group. To learn that there are women and men (well, <a href="http://theunmanlychef.com/"><span class="s2">one man</span></a>) all over the world who like me, coo over their mothers' old-school cooking practices, get teary-eyed over a whiff of <a href="http://instagram.com/p/tF6LtDRMZA/?modal=true"><span class="s2">onions sizzling away with saffron</span></a>, or squeeze in time in an incredibly hectic schedule for preparing <a href="http://www.sabziblog.com/zereshk-polow-with-pan-fried-chicken/"><span class="s2">elaborate rice dishes</span></a> just because -- well, these are pretty exciting revelations. And for these nostalgic diaspora cooks, some of whom even <a href="http://www.bottomofthepot.com/2014/08/yellow-flame-pudding-saffron-and-rose.html">listen to Jason Bentley</a> while they're at it, to bring me into their fold feels pretty awesome. I decided I wanted something, wasn't sure how to get it, I kept at it, and it found me.<br />
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<div class="p4">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu0EDbc_lT-7IpQHyRPotyStXQpvtEa4omkqMytxBz5nP1HFBWjSuQEXmy4u-tAB9u-W28t1BnobLCb9o81L6Zzn2SkgW1JGw9GjU50_fh3VoKVEGGCZ_-374w5xHSQIue-C3oFQ/s1600/IMG_0035.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu0EDbc_lT-7IpQHyRPotyStXQpvtEa4omkqMytxBz5nP1HFBWjSuQEXmy4u-tAB9u-W28t1BnobLCb9o81L6Zzn2SkgW1JGw9GjU50_fh3VoKVEGGCZ_-374w5xHSQIue-C3oFQ/s1600/IMG_0035.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="p3">
So, I'm beyond proud that today, I'm taking part in a very special event organized by this group: <b>The First International Mehregan Cyber-feast</b>. Mehregan is an ancient Persian festival that marks the fall harvest and honors friendship, affection, and love. Admittedly, my family never celebrated it, so I don't know what exactly what it involves. Here at All Kinds of Yum, though, we're big fans of friendship, affection, and love. And I will always take an opportunity to feast on Persian food (or even just digitally pretend to). Today, nearly 30 Persian food bloggers all over the world are posting dishes marking this festive day (and I've linked to all of them below!). They even have a hashtag. See, here it is: <b>#mehregan2014</b>. They're very organized, these Persian food bloggers.<br />
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<div class="p4">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBP6B2LdgLxGjIqDZp-ohM7I0K18yvUKQ3WGo5ORWAGHBKuNmPVUxTNnQPquZGectoesRJae5ygpAuwa9tK58K43RYc3BidyN_NU62oEXX3tZVVoAOXg6WrH20DdVBE53CnsoKfw/s1600/IMG_0097.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBP6B2LdgLxGjIqDZp-ohM7I0K18yvUKQ3WGo5ORWAGHBKuNmPVUxTNnQPquZGectoesRJae5ygpAuwa9tK58K43RYc3BidyN_NU62oEXX3tZVVoAOXg6WrH20DdVBE53CnsoKfw/s1600/IMG_0097.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="p3">
For my contribution to this lavish cyber-banquet, I'm riffing off a particularly opulent Persian dish called jeweled rice ("morassa polo"), stealing some of its flavors for a carrot salad. Pomegranate adds its translucent charm, each seed seeming to be glowing from within. I was lucky to get my hands on some fresh pistachios, picked right from the tree on a farm in Bakersfield, and added those as well as roasted pistachios and threads of orange zest. The salad's dressing features orange juice, saffron, and honey, making it lightly sweet and super fragrant. Overall, the dish feels like fall in Los Angeles: vaguely autumnal, but mostly just bright and sunny.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqBOwQErMCiB1In8AKfhAXD3LFvS-tIYOL0tGBCdVBK9UHQhbBKSV-APiFV93IfVgPU2CZQuS7NxsL5o8LjcuGc5w12YHW6NIMsDp7YwckOXVMxxZNfbZ2ALv3M5iFlFJNyU6BIw/s1600/IMG_0106.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqBOwQErMCiB1In8AKfhAXD3LFvS-tIYOL0tGBCdVBK9UHQhbBKSV-APiFV93IfVgPU2CZQuS7NxsL5o8LjcuGc5w12YHW6NIMsDp7YwckOXVMxxZNfbZ2ALv3M5iFlFJNyU6BIw/s1600/IMG_0106.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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<div class="p3">
So, happy Mehregan to you all, and here's to friendship, affection, and love. This little mouse is roaring with pride, and also very, very hungry.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE-lVmbW76RAkw7kY_MwOflbJE28Jw6hj_6jqSUWkLyZLRbYfyGW4Ib9uBG8K20YMsQDEi7hent0IaFBgkGLXPsQH-oc1Sxec1lLQ9XrpX9WQymd0gLht9XRdtmrnC9dU0c1CPuA/s1600/IMG_0109.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE-lVmbW76RAkw7kY_MwOflbJE28Jw6hj_6jqSUWkLyZLRbYfyGW4Ib9uBG8K20YMsQDEi7hent0IaFBgkGLXPsQH-oc1Sxec1lLQ9XrpX9WQymd0gLht9XRdtmrnC9dU0c1CPuA/s1600/IMG_0109.jpg" height="640" width="640" /></a><br />
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[Note: Be sure to scroll all the way down and check out some of the tasty treats that Persian food bloggers all over the world have prepared for this day!]<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Jeweled Carrot Salad</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Makes 4 servings.</span><br />
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<b>Vinaigrette:</b><br />
Zest of one orange (see note)<br />
Juice of one orange, about 1/4 cup, pulp strained<br />
3 teaspoons champagne vinegar or apple cider vinegar<br />
2 teaspoons honey<br />
1 tablespoon pistachio oil (or olive oil)<br />
2 tablespoons olive oil<br />
Tiny pinch saffron (see note)<br />
Salt and pepper to taste<br />
<br />
<b>Salad:</b><br />
1-2 pounds carrots, peeled and sliced into 1/2-inch discs<br />
1 tsp salt<br />
1/4 cup pistachio nutmeats, shelled and roasted (I used purchased roasted and salted pistachio nutmeats)<br />
seeds from 1 pomegranate, about 3/4 cup<br />
1/2 cup fresh shelled pistachios (optional)<br />
<br />
Prepare vinaigrette: In a bowl, whisk together orange juice, orange zest (if grated), honey, oils, saffron, salt, and pepper. Set aside. You'll end up with more than you need, but you can keep it refrigerated and use it for other salads.<br />
<br />
Bring a pot of salted water to a boil. Add carrots and cook until they are just barely tender, about 2 minutes. Drain carrots and allow them to cool.<br />
<br />
Combine carrots, orange zest, pomegranate seeds, pistachios, and about half of vinaigrette in a bowl. Adjust seasoning.<br />
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<br />
<b>A note on orange zest:</b> You can zest your orange 3 ways:<br />
- With a potato peeler, strip off thin pieces, avoiding the bitter white pith, then cut them into tiny strips with a sharp knife. Most labor-intensive, but no fancy gadgets necessary.<br />
- With <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zester#mediaviewer/File:Zesting_an_orange.jpg">a zester with 4-5 circular holes</a>, create long skinny strips of zest.<br />
- With a microplane grater, create a fine mince of zest. <br />
<br />
With the first two ways, add the zest directly to the carrots. With the last, add it to the vinaigrette.<br />
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<b>A note on saffron: </b>You can pulverize the strands in a mortar and pestle with a bit of sugar for added abrasion, or in a clean coffee grinder. Not worth it if you’re just using a bit, though: just put the strands directly into the honey, rubbing them first between your fingers a bit.<br />
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Here are all the participants in the Mehregan Cyber-Feast. <br />
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Ahu Eats: <a href="http://www.ahueats.com/2014/10/persian-style-tangy-candied-almonds-lime-badoom-torsh-mehregan-2014.html">Badoom Sookhte Torsh</a><br />
All Kinds of Yum: <a href="http://allkindsofyum.com/2014/10/jeweled-carrot-salad.html">Jeweled Carrot Salad</a><br />
Bottom of the Pot: <a href="http://www.bottomofthepot.com/2014/10/lost-things-jashneh-mehregan-broccoli.html">Broccoli Koo Koo</a><br />
Cafe Leilee: <a href="http://www.cafeleilee.com/2014/10/northern-iranian-pomegranate-garlic-and.html">Northern Iranian Pomegranate Garlic and Chicken Stew</a><br />
Coco in the Kitchen: <a href="http://www.cocointhekitchen.com/2014/10/persian-olive-caviar-zeytoon-parvardeh.html">Zeytoon Parvardeh</a><br />
Della Cucina Povera: <a href="http://dellacucinapovera.com/ghormeh-sabzi-persian-herb-and-lamb-stew">Ghormeh Sabzi</a><br />
Family Spice: <a href="http://familyspice.com/persian-squash-stew-khoresht-kadoo-mehregan">Khoreshteh Kadoo | Butternut Squash Stew</a><br />
Fig & Quince: <a href="http://figandquince.com/2014/10/09/perisan-noodle-rice-reshteh-polo-chicken-stuffed-yummies-for-mehregan/">Festive Persian Noodle Rice & Roasted Chicken Stuffed with Yummies for Mehregan</a><br />
Honest and Tasty: <a href="http://honestandtasty.com/beef-and-green-bean-rice-loobia-polo/">Loobia Polo | Beef and Green Bean Rice</a><br />
Lab Noon: <a href="http://www.labnoon.com/en/2014/10/09/persian-lentils-risotto-mehregan2014">Adas Polo Risotto Style</a><br />
Lucid Food: <a href="http://lucidfood.com/2014/10/09/sambuseh-persian-samosas-lentils-potatoes-nigella-seeds/">Sambuseh</a><br />
Marjan Kamali: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/MarjanKamaliAuthor?ref=hl">Persian Ice Cream with Rosewater and Saffron</a><br />
My Caldron: <a href="http://mycaldron.com/blog/2014/10/08/pomegranate-stew-anaar-daneh-mosamma-a-persian-dish-of-fall-love/">Anaar-Daneh Mosamma | Pomegranate Stew</a><br />
My Persian Kitchen: <a href="http://mypersiankitchen.com/keshmesh-polow-persian-raisin-rice/">Keshmesh Polow | Persian Raisin Rice</a><br />
Noghlemey: <a href="http://noghlemey.com/2014/10/09/parsi-daal-rice-pie-mehregan-2014/">Parsi Dal</a><br />
Parisa's Kitchen: <a href="http://parisaskitchen.wordpress.com/2014/10/09/jeweled-rice-morasa-polow/">Morasa Polow | Jeweled Rice</a><br />
Sabzi: <a href="http://www.sabziblog.com/ash-e-mast-persian-yogurt-soup-with-meatballs/">Yogurt Soup with Meatballs</a><br />
The Saffron Tales: <a href="http://www.thesaffrontales.com/portfolio-posts/gheimeh-lamb-split-pea-dried-lime-stew/">Khorosht-e Gheimeh</a><br />
Simi's Kitchen: <a href="http://simiskitchenblog.wordpress.com/2014/10/08/celebrating-mehragan-with-foodie-friends/">Lita Turshisi | Torshi-e Liteh | Tangy Aubergine Pickle</a><br />
Spice Spoon: <a href="http://www.thespicespoon.com/blog/khoresht-bademjaan/">Khoresht-e-Bademjaan | Saffron-scented Aubergine Stew</a><br />
Turmeric & Saffron: <a href="http://turmericsaffron.blogspot.com/2014/10/ash-e-haft-daneh-persian-seven-bean.html">Ash-a Haft Daneh | Seven Bean Soup</a><br />
The Unmanly Chef: <a href="http://theunmanlychef.com/2014/10/09/lamb-shanks-herbed-basmati-rice-fava-beans/">Baghali Polow ba Mahicheh</a><br />
ZoZoBaking: <a href="http://zozobaking.com/masghati/">Masghati</a><br />
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<br />tannaz sassoonihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11896521823667685140noreply@blogger.com36tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27960200.post-31401198032919021602014-10-01T08:53:00.001-07:002014-10-01T14:07:02.672-07:00The Second Annual Stone Fruit Feastival and Tournament[Before we begin, a wildly exciting announcement: <b>this post contains an animated gif! That I made! </b> You'll have to get to the bottom of the post to get your treat, by ohhh boy will it be worth it. Now then.]<br />
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Though the temperature in LA is going to peak at over 90 degrees this week, I can finally feel a bit of autumn chill in the air, and I'm excited about it. Last night I wore long pants to bed for the first time in months, and after this year's unprecedented heat wave, it felt pretty amazing. <br />
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I'll always be a summer girl though, and I can proudly say that I did summer right this year. So many meals were had outside -- <a href="http://instagram.com/p/sTrVQrxCJx/?modal=true">under twinkly lights</a>, preceding <a href="http://instagram.com/p/ouaLbuxCOz/?modal=true">concerts</a> <a href="http://instagram.com/p/qsxCEHRCKo/?modal=true">at the</a> <a href="http://instagram.com/p/r8pb4HRCL6/?modal=true">Bowl</a>, at <a href="http://instagram.com/p/pxd3CqxCJL/?modal=true">Echo Park</a> <a href="http://instagram.com/p/r04yM1RCBh/?modal=true">lake</a>, on <a href="http://instagram.com/p/ouP3_wxCPz/?modal=true">the roof of the Ace</a> (ok, by 'meal' I mean piña colada on that one). I witnessed two <a href="http://instagram.com/p/s8EhUGHTJM/?modal=true">gorgeous</a> <a href="http://instagram.com/p/sqxMiuxCEp/?modal=true">weddings</a> and sang in one of them (!!), had <a href="http://instagram.com/p/rK-QMsxCIJ/?modal=true">amazing</a> <a href="http://instagram.com/p/s5xIR_xCJg/?modal=true">beach</a> <a href="http://instagram.com/p/qCq_YmRCO5/?modal=true">days</a>, just sucked out every <a href="http://instagram.com/p/sn2TYMRCOT/?modal=true">juicy</a> bit of summeriness I could.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEcHG5LC1G-PYWLav2eXoWghZPekd_N13zcBCWzrRvua89J9W9h3y5VqTqZU2kyacl_kWXgRI4zvPLlnMGygDcITnsaRaIuMDxoS8RMJ_4nOjq6sxEO79vsHDuWUgcXHo6ZvhpQA/s1600/IMG_3323.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEcHG5LC1G-PYWLav2eXoWghZPekd_N13zcBCWzrRvua89J9W9h3y5VqTqZU2kyacl_kWXgRI4zvPLlnMGygDcITnsaRaIuMDxoS8RMJ_4nOjq6sxEO79vsHDuWUgcXHo6ZvhpQA/s1600/IMG_3323.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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Fortunately, I have friends who are equally as crazy about summer as I am, specifically about summer fruit. Last year, some of the same awesome characters who brought us <a href="http://tannazie.blogspot.com/2006/07/come-for-sandwiches-stay-for.html">Club Sandwich</a> decided that summer stone fruit is so monumentally important that it deems its own celebration, and thus the <b>Stone Fruit Feastival and Tournament</b> came to be. The grounds are simple: we get together in a shady spot in Griffith Park, people bring food that features stone fruit, we eat and eat, then vote for our favorite savory and sweet dish.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWwSds2X_96jZGyTOChW476MlNJgAGV_vvyvdw4Zl8VnYtb3OJKuBaE-PmO6PFhpkv87Ph5wOyBdosF2MKfPQ1osPWK8Ezk2tLF9l6raynR0NfgJsTdeV3HLQ8WMxkDT6nwuihoA/s1600/IMG_3295.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWwSds2X_96jZGyTOChW476MlNJgAGV_vvyvdw4Zl8VnYtb3OJKuBaE-PmO6PFhpkv87Ph5wOyBdosF2MKfPQ1osPWK8Ezk2tLF9l6raynR0NfgJsTdeV3HLQ8WMxkDT6nwuihoA/s1600/IMG_3295.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://letsstayhere.blogspot.com/">Rachel</a> and I show up early in the morning (she spares me the early shift) to stake out a spot. It's nice to spend a few quiet minutes in the park setting up, surrounded by trees, as sparse sets of hikers walk by.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwUgZX9e_4KPdPqAmNd2ChUQTQZHJrKKCfMn_WQzdkbwrDAEdc10es-y1iL5n_Mkak8TWcAF5Ed9UmWVXWOugl4_H2FY2KPpasEhvOS52ljudwoLd9EeLGbnGQ7GJYF_tEIFg_iw/s1600/IMG_3297.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwUgZX9e_4KPdPqAmNd2ChUQTQZHJrKKCfMn_WQzdkbwrDAEdc10es-y1iL5n_Mkak8TWcAF5Ed9UmWVXWOugl4_H2FY2KPpasEhvOS52ljudwoLd9EeLGbnGQ7GJYF_tEIFg_iw/s1600/IMG_3297.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a><br />
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Eventually the friends start rolling in. One of the fun things about the Feastival is that it's an opportunity to mix old friends with new, meet friends of friends I've only heard about, and take some time away from cars and buildings and laptops to slow things down, listen to some stone-fruit themed tunes (<a href="https://play.spotify.com/user/tannazie/playlist/22pmQsmuJCImcd15EnoYJW">oh yes</a>), and enjoy some simple good times. A lot of these friends happen to be toddlers, and several, like this heartbreaker, have only come to exist since last year's tournament.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdYkIbnjkYrLHJ8GtU5CAhzpCIF7SRGpcrdBbgusUi8qzBD8rbjRTWLIUVuL-WYhTO9byskrh-2n2uphXAKeGv1KitCq9NCi3xAEjVQkZyJ7_hi6QeEWpEtiYLp53b1o-HDVCr5g/s1600/IMG_3324.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdYkIbnjkYrLHJ8GtU5CAhzpCIF7SRGpcrdBbgusUi8qzBD8rbjRTWLIUVuL-WYhTO9byskrh-2n2uphXAKeGv1KitCq9NCi3xAEjVQkZyJ7_hi6QeEWpEtiYLp53b1o-HDVCr5g/s1600/IMG_3324.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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People take the competition quite seriously, and this year's offerings were a true feast(ival) of diverse and creative stone fruit dishes. They included peach pulled pork sliders, a roasted peach and tomatillo salsa and a plum one, a ricotta apricot pie, a nectarin<span style="text-align: center;">e slab pie, two different kinds of paletas, two different chilled stone fruit soups, fudgy cherry brownies (the sweet winner), a Syrian dish of orzo and chicken with apricot sauce (the savory winner), and tons more. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmjDoCfzslK8x92lH61SCxDdu8x6lgN9mW-raEOyBvF35dIjPrkJGcIagXVt2ItkXPSPVIJ7pDEkXsogy6SU_-kiEHbbBOUxV3slpt4poqLid66uj6Hb0vcX34jzhyphenhyphenCI7sdpZHkw/s1600/IMG_3317.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmjDoCfzslK8x92lH61SCxDdu8x6lgN9mW-raEOyBvF35dIjPrkJGcIagXVt2ItkXPSPVIJ7pDEkXsogy6SU_-kiEHbbBOUxV3slpt4poqLid66uj6Hb0vcX34jzhyphenhyphenCI7sdpZHkw/s1600/IMG_3317.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a><br />
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Oh, and there was a three-legged race.<br />
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For my part, <b>I made a sandwich.</b> I have been dreaming of making Martha Stewart's pressed picnic sandwich for at least 7 years. I finally realized it'd only happen if I doctor it (like I do every recipe), and fit it to this rare picnic opportunity. I started by layering some sandwich ingredients inside a ciabatta, veering Italian -- creamy goat cheese, salty prosciutto, peppery salami, and some bright arugula. But, I added complexity in two stone fruit ways. First, thin slices of white nectarine added crisp texture and some subtle sweetness. Then a plum <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mostarda">mostarda</a> upped the ante: this tangy-sweet condiment really elevated the sandwich's flavor.<br />
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<span style="color: #444444; font-size: x-small;">Images 7-11: Michelle Stark</span></div>
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I didn't win this year, but I'm telling you now that third annual is all mine. For that, I'd appreciate your stone fruit suggestions. Competition is steep, and I can use all the help I can get.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Pressed Picnic Sandwich with Plum Mostarda</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Adapted from <a href="http://www.marthastewart.com/356407/pressed-picnic-sandwich">Martha Stewart</a></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Makes 10 servings</span><br />
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Mostarda:<br />
4 plums<br />
1-3 tsp sugar<br />
2-4 Tbs red wine vinegar<br />
1-3 Tbs whole grain mustard<br />
salt, to taste<br />
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Sandwich:<br />
1 ciabatta loaf<br />
6 oz goat cheese<br />
3 oz arugula (about half a typical supermarket bag)<br />
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1 Tbs extra virgin olive oil<br />
salt and pepper, to taste</div>
1 white nectarine, thinly sliced<br />
6 oz prosciutto, thinly sliced<br />
1/4 lb peppered salami<br />
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To make mostarda, peel plums and cut into chunks (to make peeling easier, you can cut a small 'x' into the end of the plum and put it in boiling water for about 20 seconds). Place plums in a small saucepan over medium heat with 1/4 cup water, 1 tsp sugar, 2 Tbs red wine vinegar, and 1 Tbs mustard. Bring to a boil, then lower to a simmer, stirring occasionally, until plums have fallen apart. Taste, and adjust sugar, vinegar, and mustard as necessary to create a balanced, tangy, and not-too-sweet condiment. Add salt to taste.<br />
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To construct sandwich, slice ciabatta horizontally in half. Remove soft crumb. Place bottom crust in the center of a piece of plastic wrap large enough to wrap around entire sandwich. Spread half of mostarda on bottom crust. Dot with goat cheese. In a bowl, toss arugula with olive oil, salt, and pepper, and layer over goat cheese. Add a layer of nectarine slices, then prosciutto, then salami. Spread top crust with remaining mostarda and place on top of sandwich.<br />
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Wrap sandwich tightly with plastic wrap and press by placing under a stack of plates or heavy skillet, or at the bottom of a full picnic basket, for at least an hour. Cut into ten slices to serve.<br />
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<br />tannaz sassoonihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11896521823667685140noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27960200.post-55173468418954235612014-09-16T07:32:00.000-07:002014-09-18T10:33:20.367-07:00Wexler's Deli at Grand Central MarketA lot has happened since <a href="http://tannazie.blogspot.com/2013/12/grand-central-market-where-pig-snout.html">we last checked in</a> at Grand Central Market. Let's take a peek, shall we? <br />
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The Market as a whole was named one of <a href="http://www.bonappetit.com/restaurants-travel/best-new-restaurants/slideshow/grand-central-market/">Bon Appetit's ten best new restaurants</a> and New York Times coffee authority Oliver Strand deigned to name G&B's iced latte, made not with dairy but with house-made almond-macadamia milk, <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2014/06/11/dining/the-best-iced-latte-in-america.html">the best in the country</a>. The market has gotten a butcher shop, a juice bar, a kombucha bar (did I just say that?), and outposts of Silver Lake's Berlin Currywurst, West Third's Olio Wood Fired Pizzeria, and Santa Barbara's McConnell's Ice Cream. The long lines multiply and grow, as does the buzz.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7J1pguPSYC6H558NfJAVjhcDxvwy0vuecOXwkP0yXJRanpqNANUHJlEjNziE1MOd3dNk0-xNtin3R3ss1moovGJd5YQzWjNNQRfvk2unG9khwWiHt1I4bFJ1QFoaY6fxzb4sTQQ/s1600/IMG_3334.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7J1pguPSYC6H558NfJAVjhcDxvwy0vuecOXwkP0yXJRanpqNANUHJlEjNziE1MOd3dNk0-xNtin3R3ss1moovGJd5YQzWjNNQRfvk2unG9khwWiHt1I4bFJ1QFoaY6fxzb4sTQQ/s1600/IMG_3334.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a><br />
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And tucked among the shiny new eateries and GCM stalwarts is <a href="http://wexlersdeli.com/">Wexler's Deli</a>. LA was a little slow to pick up the trend of nouveau Jewish delis that pay homage to their predecessors, but Wexler's has come to fill that gap. By necessity, the menu is small, and thanks to chef Micah Wexler's formal training, as much of it as possible is made in that tiny kitchen. There are a few sandwiches (corned beef, egg salad, tuna salad), house smoked salmon and sturgeon on bagels from Brooklyn Bagels, and occasional black and white cookies and chocolate babka.<br />
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But what everyone wants to know is, <b>how's the pastrami?</b> And more to the point, <b>is it better than Langer's?</b> Let's talk it out.<br />
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Langer's is a civic institution, and with good reason: their <a href="http://tannazie.blogspot.com/2008/01/auspicious-beginnings.html">delectable pastrami</a> is arguably the best not just in LA, but in the entire country. I'm glad to report that there's no sense of competitive one-upmanship at Wexler's. Instead, Wexler, an LA native, has imbued his deli with a respectful reverence for Langer's -- evidenced by the MacArthur Park sandwich, an edible homage to the #19, with its cole slaw, Swiss cheese, and Russian dressing -- coupled with a soft-spoken confidence rooted in his own high-quality product. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpm5xqkufTn-I6bR-D8jAY0uuvKaWRmAv639UFF3853vpA_bpJk7WxuS68CYknNhn97lVtKccimd8aWvCri2uuQIkveG35AeU2TeXvF5__CHQsCrTp074-w4TUhyXhd3aV7cZciw/s1600/IMG_3333.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpm5xqkufTn-I6bR-D8jAY0uuvKaWRmAv639UFF3853vpA_bpJk7WxuS68CYknNhn97lVtKccimd8aWvCri2uuQIkveG35AeU2TeXvF5__CHQsCrTp074-w4TUhyXhd3aV7cZciw/s1600/IMG_3333.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a><br />
The pastrami at Wexler's is very, very good. They make it right there in the tiny kitchen, unlike Langer's, who parses out the work to an off-site facility (and purportedly uses liquid smoke in their recipe. Shudder). Its peppery seasoning is properly biting; its smokiness is just right. The meat is sliced thick, and balances fat and lean well. The coleslaw on the Macarthur Park is excellent: its fresh brightness not dimmed by too much tangy dressing. The rye bread isn't perfect -- it's a little dry, and doesn't have the toasty crust of they rye at Langer's -- but it's still perfectly serviceable. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1zCuosuWRtAA6X4iEG8dsvqKkgmWAIrlfd0-Oy7zdn4m752-TaIGIioAhze_q9zu8CpzAi1_c6bmzGxsQFoPTUO_tgb08OV68-BcxjBX59Gb0bFA-2DcwVqXiTKLdb8Sm-1J_aA/s1600/IMG_3340.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1zCuosuWRtAA6X4iEG8dsvqKkgmWAIrlfd0-Oy7zdn4m752-TaIGIioAhze_q9zu8CpzAi1_c6bmzGxsQFoPTUO_tgb08OV68-BcxjBX59Gb0bFA-2DcwVqXiTKLdb8Sm-1J_aA/s1600/IMG_3340.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a><br />
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In any city without a pastrami titan looming over it, Wexler's would be a star. But, and I'm a little relieved to say this, the sum of the parts of the Langer's sandwich still somehow come together more harmoniously. Maybe it's the softer bread, which seems to hold the sandwich's ingredients together in a gentle hug, or maybe it's just the alchemy of a recipe that's stood the test of decades. But my Wexler's sandwich didn't lead to the tears-in-my-eyes ecstasy that the Langer's sandwich reliably delivers.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNudfwXsrlcImKW5pZ-jcHe8Q5xhx-wXO8ZTzl49EIk7BXajGwnXuzE7Mbf_FjpibRBtB6tXNX9_aGNiH1FibCu6qjdeS2fuGeqFblOtvAbAM7dqS4ZissRuNHL3lLn6B-X028Qg/s1600/IMG_3341.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNudfwXsrlcImKW5pZ-jcHe8Q5xhx-wXO8ZTzl49EIk7BXajGwnXuzE7Mbf_FjpibRBtB6tXNX9_aGNiH1FibCu6qjdeS2fuGeqFblOtvAbAM7dqS4ZissRuNHL3lLn6B-X028Qg/s1600/IMG_3341.JPG" height="462" width="640" /></a><br />
But, let's not miss the point here: this rookie player in the LA deli game is no slouch. We've got a solid contender here.<br />
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<a href="http://wexlersdeli.com/">Wexler's Deli</a> is in the Grand Central Market, at 317 S. Broadway.<br />
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tannaz sassoonihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11896521823667685140noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27960200.post-53366693176342497312014-08-25T14:22:00.000-07:002015-07-22T10:21:53.604-07:00Washed Walnuts: A Healthy Perfect Summer SnackThis is how we ate. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_Hwlssn2SF6A7y74fLvjaHuE2J3nQNplt9Vp4LnYYnaLxZg5v5I-xx1ysMT6Ugv1E4xOyBK_YvV4fvUdiwvzjh7P_XNcnXEf0zFrxiN75ceetJUXpmXs7hS1CHohrFXOeoDFqHw/s1600/IMG_2414.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_Hwlssn2SF6A7y74fLvjaHuE2J3nQNplt9Vp4LnYYnaLxZg5v5I-xx1ysMT6Ugv1E4xOyBK_YvV4fvUdiwvzjh7P_XNcnXEf0zFrxiN75ceetJUXpmXs7hS1CHohrFXOeoDFqHw/s1600/IMG_2414.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Long before Michael Pollan implored us to cook more, my mom spent hours in the kitchen, preparing us dinner from scratch every night. Before Eric Schlosser told us there is shit in the meat, my mom forbade us from eating fast food hamburgers, simply because of a vague sense that "you don't know what's in them." Often she'd go back to recipes she learned from her own mom and mother-in-law, conjuring up their memory in the way she chopped onions, or their tips for gauging the temperature of a pot of boiling rice (Stick your finger on the inside wall of the the pot. If it sizzles, it's done). She would send us to school with a whole tomato in our lunch bag as a snack. She was always trying to get us to eat fruit, more fruit, <i>more fruit</i>. And we would roll our eyes, shoot her some attitude, and eat tortilla chips.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt82Aof82FCsneoFPOI6OtixrovssOx4mfcV2X0XzG4gdW60yFO7r773-JtiX3KdHdv67Umeoc5or2o8VHP1djIiy8hmIeyhyphenhyphen-mqyeiAFdLyPt_jufISssz5lZgaB2Sov9CPM1Wg/s1600/IMG_2415.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="412" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt82Aof82FCsneoFPOI6OtixrovssOx4mfcV2X0XzG4gdW60yFO7r773-JtiX3KdHdv67Umeoc5or2o8VHP1djIiy8hmIeyhyphenhyphen-mqyeiAFdLyPt_jufISssz5lZgaB2Sov9CPM1Wg/s1600/IMG_2415.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<b>My mom is an Iranian woman, and as such, has an innate sense about food.</b> I think that people from a lot of countries have this, but it's kind of lost its way in the US. She never ever wastes, she balances flavor with wholesomeness. She's impermeable to commercial food conglomerates who insist their packaged products will enhance her life. She cooks with real ingredients. <br />
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She tried with every ounce of effort she had to imbue my sister and me with this intuition, but the pull of packaged foods, school lunches, friends with cabinets full of candy bars, were all too much. And now, as an adult in Los Angeles, with its overabundance of strange and wonderful foods everywhere, it'd be positively dismissive of me to reign it in. At late night Ktown haunts, I've eaten things that literally slithered off the plate, I can't <i>not</i> try bone marrow waffles, I've enhanced my world through dumplings that burst with soupy broth as you bite into their delicate skin, I pile vinegary <i>curtido</i> on my greasy, heavy pupusas like a pro, and get a little choked up when I think about my first encounter with <i>birria</i>. When confronted with such an embarrassment of culinary riches as this city is, it's hard to maintain the unwavering dietary compass that my mom tried so hard to instill. <br />
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So this recipe is a Violet Sassooni classic, in that it covers all the bases, without ever trying: it's a totally delicious ethnic snack and a summer refresher, but it also happens to be low-carb, gluten-free, dairy-free, high in protein, raw, and vegan. Plus it's only got two ingredients, and one is water.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPSP7UipE0I0NKkHbsyKuBLyXC4ZCXJz42YYhWDSVaBtgpGSYPmY5HmU2MdEbBVNc_wbjsY1AlFMcp-N9cZhjUmZs6iGISDxJ2VHldyT-xbmPoKkKp2IbX6XW9K-sN-tBAl4j2_Q/s1600/IMG_2394.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPSP7UipE0I0NKkHbsyKuBLyXC4ZCXJz42YYhWDSVaBtgpGSYPmY5HmU2MdEbBVNc_wbjsY1AlFMcp-N9cZhjUmZs6iGISDxJ2VHldyT-xbmPoKkKp2IbX6XW9K-sN-tBAl4j2_Q/s1600/IMG_2394.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; text-align: center;">Walnuts, pre-soak</td></tr>
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Soaking walnuts in the refrigerator for a day or more does a few things. As they soak, they give off much of their brown color, and with it goes their bitter edge. You end up with a beautifully pale rendition of the nut with a much lighter, almost porous crispness, which, served over ice cubes, satisfies and refreshes on a hot day. They're a great snack on their own with a little salt to dip each piece in, and you can even add them to a salad, but they are best as part of a breakfast meal of fresh flatbread, feta cheese, and sweet cantaloupe.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinDKwX6M-Crjo951g0rZWlhqatEcgiRkCESg_RVRPK46yVgyWZFzsX53dLZdWJJU7U6BeiAB_5fx3irMSJN6mDgzoxGu5HJyjv32ODQGz3cMqIXEUrs5tnLfxr7aMJD9XtAStotA/s1600/IMG_2406.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinDKwX6M-Crjo951g0rZWlhqatEcgiRkCESg_RVRPK46yVgyWZFzsX53dLZdWJJU7U6BeiAB_5fx3irMSJN6mDgzoxGu5HJyjv32ODQGz3cMqIXEUrs5tnLfxr7aMJD9XtAStotA/s1600/IMG_2406.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">with flaky salt</td></tr>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Washed Walnuts</span></b><br />
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<b>Note:</b> This recipe is extremely simple, but it uses a lot of water. At least in California, we're in a historically severe drought. You can definitely use the water you use to soak the walnuts to water plants. <br />
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<b>Also note:</b> The water that comes off the walnuts gives a dingy brown stain to everything it comes into contact with, especially porcelain sinks. You can scrub or bleach it out, but just be aware. Your best bet is to drain the liquid into a pitcher, and then directly use it to water plants.<br />
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<b>One more note:</b> Use the best walnuts you can here, as they're the star of the show. Your best bets for highest quality/cost ratio are Middle Eastern stores, Trader Joe's, or bulk bins.<br />
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Raw walnut halves<br />
Water<br />
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Place walnut halves in a bowl, and top with water to cover. Chill in refrigerator. The first day, change the water every few hours, up to three or four times. Let them continue to soak overnight. At this point, they are ready to eat.<br />
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For a single serving, grab a handful, shake off any excess water, and place on a plate with a small mound of salt. Dip each walnut in salt before eating. <br />
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For a crowd, drain off liquid and place walnuts in a serving bowl with several ice cubes. <br />
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Any remaining walnuts should be stored in water in the fridge. Change the water every day or so. Walnuts will stay fresh and good this way for a week or more.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6WBSVZB7KBk-wfiblzjNAgGUY0zaRAjfAV7gsSvD-tpy98qL5zuCf4XlbIw4ZOO1nsnY4b7Sm8Zj5g-gjgMZp2P9SGcWdK1Kgs4piVfWZNYgqjhAxSvF3h3HaHj-Bz-4YuJuOgg/s1600/IMG_2401.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6WBSVZB7KBk-wfiblzjNAgGUY0zaRAjfAV7gsSvD-tpy98qL5zuCf4XlbIw4ZOO1nsnY4b7Sm8Zj5g-gjgMZp2P9SGcWdK1Kgs4piVfWZNYgqjhAxSvF3h3HaHj-Bz-4YuJuOgg/s1600/IMG_2401.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">after overnight soak</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXai9mu4YhKNTkFvZrWX7aCTJeYQT3-yp6DztUslI3Xl5Ic73Xt_qrj3KIuM5_Mj2Hu7KlmmVYGxYfhX105gPlHs27usAQGetpx5-7sY4zpzpEmtyev_Q0BNNRtk2BCXWAY6fq-w/s1600/IMG_2403.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXai9mu4YhKNTkFvZrWX7aCTJeYQT3-yp6DztUslI3Xl5Ic73Xt_qrj3KIuM5_Mj2Hu7KlmmVYGxYfhX105gPlHs27usAQGetpx5-7sY4zpzpEmtyev_Q0BNNRtk2BCXWAY6fq-w/s1600/IMG_2403.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">sometimes the water freezes in the fridge into cool crystalline formations</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlSxdcpyXy6i13Rv8jDBZE1pNtlJot_5SPddwL2fDoqcNfch2jTHHYbqERIgUbEGpz9RTjz2uAuSHaeYIjNqnvOvJTMxfHOH0cr9oOjmdVX35x_CPdcsiTy4YRJ4TCleaRt2Lmtg/s1600/IMG_2417.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlSxdcpyXy6i13Rv8jDBZE1pNtlJot_5SPddwL2fDoqcNfch2jTHHYbqERIgUbEGpz9RTjz2uAuSHaeYIjNqnvOvJTMxfHOH0cr9oOjmdVX35x_CPdcsiTy4YRJ4TCleaRt2Lmtg/s1600/IMG_2417.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />tannaz sassoonihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11896521823667685140noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27960200.post-81127416845151239012014-08-13T08:55:00.001-07:002014-08-13T08:55:37.727-07:00Iranstagram: 3 to Follow<div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq8Ef4U82b7w-dDqL2n9VEpW5HOrsKo0nQIrtfCvP4jUc9WzqotDnb7xpqsxzyKSiaPV4s3T5Z2MzgPApre5rUGPtV1VFqQ5kPK8009sS8omtMqv2LEvm0_AnQOm5NtvDlhAhrkg/s1600/IMG_3383.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq8Ef4U82b7w-dDqL2n9VEpW5HOrsKo0nQIrtfCvP4jUc9WzqotDnb7xpqsxzyKSiaPV4s3T5Z2MzgPApre5rUGPtV1VFqQ5kPK8009sS8omtMqv2LEvm0_AnQOm5NtvDlhAhrkg/s1600/IMG_3383.PNG" height="640" width="640" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://instagram.com/everydayiran">instagram/everydayiran</a></span></div>
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When Thrillist published <a href="http://www.thrillist.com/eat/los-angeles/best-la-persian-restaurants">my post on LA's best Persian food</a>, something interesting happened. People started talking about it on <a href="http://twitter.com/tannazie">Twitter</a>, and a new world opened up to me. I had no idea there were so many Iranian food people (<a href="http://twitter.com/figandquince">bloggers</a>, <a href="https://twitter.com/AfsanehKaviani">MasterChef contestants</a>, <a href="http://twitter.com/raffisplace">restaurateurs</a>, <a href="https://twitter.com/lucidfood">cookbook writers</a>) all over the world, and my Twitter-illiteracy once again bit me. I've since remedied this, jumping into the conversation to reminisce about Persian foods, share LA restaurant recommendations, and coo over all manner of photos. And it's the photos that are the most evocative. <br />
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Iran's definitely one of those countries that, when experienced at street-level, is so much different than what you hear on the news. So, I wanted to share a few <a href="http://instagram.com/tannazier">Instagram</a> accounts that I've recently discovered, reporting from within the country and offering a human view of the menacing Islamic Republic.<br />
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<a href="http://instagram.com/everydayiran"><b>everydayiran</b></a>: This account features a rotating collection of Iranian photographers, and gives a bright, dynamic image of life on the streets, out in nature, and all over Iran. My favorites tend to include hip Tehrani women who constantly put together incredibly chic outfits -- veil, manteau, and all.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj43kUohHgUfnQm2PlV5J50PYQVoDy6BdFxnnfDUOjJc25ktmDBbxg8Myd8CeMCI2O7o73R4tyIPE3OUR-BAOtWwUVuox9SkpxQIAHXRD-y4PPmsfWeQ5Au5q91gezYgyR_SL3gkA/s1600/IMG_3378.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj43kUohHgUfnQm2PlV5J50PYQVoDy6BdFxnnfDUOjJc25ktmDBbxg8Myd8CeMCI2O7o73R4tyIPE3OUR-BAOtWwUVuox9SkpxQIAHXRD-y4PPmsfWeQ5Au5q91gezYgyR_SL3gkA/s1600/IMG_3378.PNG" height="640" width="360" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://instagram.com/f64s125"><b>f64s125</b></a>: Photographer Ako Salemi's black and whites capture solitary moments in corners shrouded in shadow within a bustling city, and feature the clean lines of Iran's architecture.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0-vZjkTLW3-LrzLKKDXAa7qdeWBcQ_b6xIBetb7VLbewho0YVvBos24AAN3NcxuDchnKOTE-nWMLno4x54B8hBdil7pUvlUomNQWoWoq0QJIO5mWoJkksML9QRMsMh0X4EsPCJg/s1600/IMG_3389.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0-vZjkTLW3-LrzLKKDXAa7qdeWBcQ_b6xIBetb7VLbewho0YVvBos24AAN3NcxuDchnKOTE-nWMLno4x54B8hBdil7pUvlUomNQWoWoq0QJIO5mWoJkksML9QRMsMh0X4EsPCJg/s1600/IMG_3389.PNG" height="640" width="360" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://instagram.com/solmazdaryani"><b>solmazdaryani</b></a>: Solmaz's photos offer intimate peeks into the home life of non-city Iranians, sometimes very old, sometimes sharing a meal on the floor of a modest home. I don't know much about the photographer here, but a quick google search leads me to understand she's an amateur photographer in Tabriz. She only has a few photos up, but I hope she posts more and more.<br />
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Some other web-related notes:<br />
- Brandon Stanton of Humans Of New York (in my opinion, the best thing on the internet) spent some time in Iran a few years back. <a href="http://www.humansofnewyork.com/tagged/iran">His photos</a> from that trip, with his signature human treatment, are terrific.<br />
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- As I've been consuming more Iranian media, I've been wanting to create my own little collection of the things <i>I</i> like: less frippery and ornateness, more modern imagery, contemporary arts, cleaner food styling. I've created a <a href="http://www.pinterest.com/tannazie/persian/">Pinterest page</a> that does all that. Follow it for your daily dose.<br />
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- And as always, I'm on twitter, instagram, and facebook myself. The <a href="http://facebook.com/allkindsofyum">All Kinds of Yum Facebook page</a> will keep you up to date on the very best that LA has to offer in food, fun, and general civic awesomeness, with some relevant side trips along the way. And here's <a href="http://twitter.com/tannazie">Twitter</a>, and here's <a href="http://instagram.com/tannazier">Instagram</a>. Go crazy.<br />
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tannaz sassoonihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11896521823667685140noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27960200.post-64167734202105222014-08-04T08:56:00.000-07:002014-08-15T11:27:24.151-07:00Lemon Vanilla Buckwheat Waffles <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I have a weird soft spot for other people's dietary restrictions. I'm sure it'd get old after a while, but now and then, I enjoy the creative challenge of feeding people with "special needs". Whether you're a <a href="http://tannazie.blogspot.com/2006/05/lactard-caprese.html">lactard</a>, a <a href="http://tannazie.blogspot.com/2011/10/cold-weather-saladbook-indianish-red.html">vegan</a>, or <a href="http://tannazie.blogspot.com/2014/03/chicken-soup-for-working-girls-soul.html">kosher</a>, I want to work around all your issues and feed you. <br />
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So, when I saw a recipe for buckwheat waffles, my thoughts immediately went to my gluten-sensitive friend Stephanie (of <a href="http://tannazie.blogspot.com/2014/07/coconut-caipirinhas.html">coconut caipirinha</a> fame). I needed to make this for her.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYPvMikdXlT0CqQVOkIIprOonjRDfuTDcQiha_WM2wxs3bxgN98YthY2z41Mo8GixUIpABBXcqiUb3OudOxL8-soQ6jyBA4hjIerUzybZ68gDrynXbC-QYzEw2Zz0ewk01D-tTLw/s1600/DSC_0283.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYPvMikdXlT0CqQVOkIIprOonjRDfuTDcQiha_WM2wxs3bxgN98YthY2z41Mo8GixUIpABBXcqiUb3OudOxL8-soQ6jyBA4hjIerUzybZ68gDrynXbC-QYzEw2Zz0ewk01D-tTLw/s1600/DSC_0283.JPG" height="424" width="640" /></a></div>
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A note on the gluten business: I am aware that <a href="http://www.businessinsider.com/gluten-sensitivity-and-study-replication-2014-5">recent research showed that non-celiac gluten sensitivity actually does not exist</a>. I also know that Steph feels sick when she eats wheat products, and that no one knows her body as well as she does. So, in this particular instance, I'd say that science that is telling her she's not feeling what she is very clearly feeling is about as useful as <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4QrelL9fOjY">Dr. Bunsen Honeydew's gorilla detector</a>. </div>
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Anyway, we got together at the home of our dear friend Rachel, a landscape architect who's also worn the hat of <a href="http://spicestationsilverlake.com/">spice seller</a>, <a href="http://silverlakefarms.com/">Silver Lake Farms</a> microgreen grower, at-home vegetable garden tender, and all-around person you want to cook and eat with. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oh Lucy!</td></tr>
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While her fiance served us cold brew and played jazz, and new pup Lucy laid around and made the place extra-cozy, we put the Belgian Waffler to work.</div>
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We tweaked the recipe a bit, adding lemon zest and juice and vanilla extract, and the results were wonderful. Our waffles had gorgeous color, crisp texture on the outside, steamy and doughy inside, with a grassy, nutty flavor that planted them squarely in the realm of grown-up tastes.<br />
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They made a perfect breakfast with some figs, blueberries, and sweetjuicyflavorful melon from the CSA.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Lemon Vanilla Buckwheat Waffles</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Adapted from <a href="http://www.simplyrecipes.com/recipes/buckwheat_waffles/">Simply Recipes</a></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Makes 5 waffles, plus one baby waffle</span><br />
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You can use lower fat milk and yogurt here, but remember that fat is flavor. We used 2% for both, and it worked out great.<br />
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1 1/2 cups buckwheat flour<br />
2 teaspoons baking powder<br />
1 teaspoon baking soda<br />
Pinch of salt<br />
1/2 tsp cinammon<br />
2 eggs, separated, plus 2 egg whites<br />
2 Tbsp brown sugar<br />
1/2 cup (1 stick) butter, melted<br />
1 cup plain yogurt<br />
1 cup milk<br />
1/4 cup water<br />
1/2 tsp vanilla extract<br />
juice of half a lemon<br />
zest of 1 lemon<br />
Nonstick cooking spray<br />
Extra butter for serving<br />
Heated maple syrup for serving<br />
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Set waffle maker to medium. In a large bowl, whisk together buckwheat flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, and cinnamon. In a medium bowl, beat all 4 egg whites, sprinkling brown sugar over them as you go, until soft peaks form. <br />
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In a separate bowl, whisk together egg yolks, melted butter, yogurt, milk, water, vanilla extract, and lemon juice and zest. <br />
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Add the yogurt mixture to the flour mixture and stir until just combined. Gently fold a third of the beaten egg whites into the batter until completely incorporated. Fold the remaining beaten egg whites into the batter until just combined. <br />
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To make waffles, spray top and bottom of waffle maker with cooking spray. Pour or spoon batter into the wells (a ladle works well here) until it almost fills the edges. Close the waffle maker, and check on the waffle after about five minutes: it's ready when the batter's dark grey color starts to show golden brown. Carefully remove the waffle (a fork or tongs may help here), and repeat the process for the next, starting with cooking spray, until you've used all the batter.<br />
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Serve with butter and warm maple syrup, and if you have blueberries and vanilla tangelo marmalade to go along with it, consider yourself very, very lucky.<br />
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tannaz sassoonihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11896521823667685140noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27960200.post-41132407434609359812014-07-16T18:06:00.004-07:002014-07-16T18:06:54.349-07:00I Went Beyond the Kebab for Thrillist<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/mamonello/3399444978/" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_S1zTNrwxZhBXqCZ8vTf1pOrPnUi2g4O9LvFWHmDXRAchA_wdXZuZX7kfgAqiJKLpdROKLEX3NCFHEA52CnwilmMY_JlYAzq2bZxkMEOemDdwjpTc3ykUbHgEy8qy3CjvaIqPeQ/s1600/kebab.jpg" height="420" width="640" /></a></div>
So excited to share the fun piece I wrote for Thrillist on <b>LA's best Persian food.</b> Since I expect my fellow Angelenos to all to be pro ethnic eaters, I decided to skip the obvious kebab choices and find some of the more obscure Persian eats around town. Really delicious to research, so fun to write. <a href="http://www.thrillist.com/eat/los-angeles/best-la-persian-restaurants">Check it out!</a><br />
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Thanks to <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/mamonello/">Robert</a> for the photo.</span>tannaz sassoonihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11896521823667685140noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27960200.post-22012026342089992752014-07-09T07:39:00.000-07:002014-10-01T14:08:11.130-07:00Coconut Caipirinhas<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Two words: <b>coconut zeitgeist.</b> For reasons beyond my understanding, there is a force at work that keeps pushing coconut under my nose. First it was the <a href="http://www.psmag.com/navigation/health-and-behavior/toast-story-latest-artisanal-food-craze-72676/">intriguing story</a> of the strange San Francisco woman with tattooed-on freckles and a severe psychological disorder, whose Trouble Coffee and Coconut Club introduced us to the term "hipster toast". Trouble's menu features an item called Build Your Own Damn House, consisting of a coffee, a piece of cinnamon toast, and a young coconut served with both a straw, for its water, and a spoon to scoop out its soft meat. <br />
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Lately, similar young coconuts have been on offer at <a href="http://www.zugotruck.com/">the juice truck</a> outside the Saturday Silver Lake Farmers Market, and I can't get enough of the young coconut juice slushy at <a href="http://www.watdongmoonlek.com/">Wat Dong Moon Lek</a>. Even the über-cool Ace Hotel is in on the game: at a rooftop event called Discostan (<a href="https://www.facebook.com/Discostan">after my own heart</a>) a few Sunday afternoons ago, the frozen drink of the day was piña colada, and <i>everyone</i> had a glass of the frosty stuff in their hand.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKrMHETM3OoPORUHXP3jlDjKEY4_WJL1E62Feca1RdypqhSTEqNt7U_bBb57MmqmRTmVcszbJU0PWWb6K0HkRtkdHa0VXSbC7s6eAuOF00MVmBw2S6XO4FLtMcT6mYgRsABfmyTg/s1600/DSC_0011.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKrMHETM3OoPORUHXP3jlDjKEY4_WJL1E62Feca1RdypqhSTEqNt7U_bBb57MmqmRTmVcszbJU0PWWb6K0HkRtkdHa0VXSbC7s6eAuOF00MVmBw2S6XO4FLtMcT6mYgRsABfmyTg/s1600/DSC_0011.JPG" height="424" width="640" /></a><br />
It transcends food, though: I swear by the <a href="http://www.mountainocean.com/skin_trip.html">somewhat hippy-dippy coconut body lotion</a> I've used for years, but lately I've been hearing talk of using straight coconut oil, right from the food aisle, as everything from a hair conditioner to a facial moisturizer, and I gotta say, I'm not mad at the results (anyone else trying this?).<br />
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Not that I'm complaining. I love all of this. For me the smell of coconut is everything summer: suntan lotion on the beach, tropical islands with swaying palm trees and pale blue waters. I'll take it all.<br />
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So, you can imagine my delight when last month Smitten Kitchen featured a <a href="http://smittenkitchen.com/blog/2014/06/limonada-de-coco/">frozen coconut limeade</a>. In May, I spent some time in New York (same trip as <a href="http://tannazie.blogspot.com/2014/06/montreal.html">Montreal</a>), and a good friend introduced me to his adopted neighborhood of Inwood, a forgotten bit of upper-upper-<i>upper</i> Manhattan with old growth forest, Hudson River views, and undeniable Dominican flavor. We had dinner at a place called <a href="http://www.yelp.com/biz/papasito-mexican-grill-and-agave-bar-new-york">Papasito</a>, a Dominican-owned Mexican restaurant*. No hipster minimalism here; people were here to smoke hookah, eat supple, well-spiced food, drink big pink cocktails, sway to the tropical music, and flirt. I ordered a coconut caipirinha -- a frosty take on the Brazilian national cocktail of cachaça (Brazilian sugar cane liquor), lime, and sugar -- here mixed with coconut milk and served blended. It was perfect. <br />
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So, In this weekend's killer heat, I invited myself over to the gorgeous home of my good friend Stephanie Alpert, who runs the <i>killa</i> vintage shop <a href="https://www.etsy.com/shop/rummageandhollow">Rummage and Hollow</a>, and pretty much forced her to make cocktails with me.<br />
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We started with the Smitten Kitchen recipe, doctored it to our liking, and spiked it with cachaça. In the midst of serious summer heat, we were cool as a coconut.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Coconut Caipirinha</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Inspired by <a href="http://smittenkitchen.com/blog/2014/06/limonada-de-coco">Smitten Kitchen</a>.<br />Makes 6 glasses.</span><br />
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I find it especially fitting to be posting this Brazilian cocktail on the heels of Brazil's pitiable defeat and elimination at the hands (and feet) of Germany yesterday. If <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PHTdTiQzICQ">Neymar's tearjerker of a message</a> didn't melt your heart, that game surely broke it. Thanks for not rioting, Brazil. <br />
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5 cups small ice cubes or crushed ice<br />
1 1/2 cups full-fat coconut milk<br />
juice of 4 limes (about 1/2 cup)<br />
3 tablespoons granulated sugar<br />
1 1/2 cups cachaça<br />
lime slices for garnish<br />
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You can go about this two ways: you can keep your pitcher virgin and add cachaça to the individual servings, or you can go all in from the get-go. If you choose to do the former, add 2 ounces of cachaça to each glass of limeade mixture, and stir well. <br />
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Add all ingredients (save for cachaça, if you're adding it later) to blender and blend until frothy and slushy. Pour into glasses, and garnish each with a straw and a slice of lime.<br />
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* Far be it from this Angeleno to deign to eat New York Mexican food (shudder); I managed to find a decidedly non-Mexican dish on the menu: plátano relleno. A plantain roasted in its skin, split lengthwise, and filled with seasoned stewed beef. This Angeleno chose wisely.tannaz sassoonihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11896521823667685140noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27960200.post-10947903386258416222014-07-02T10:41:00.000-07:002014-07-02T10:41:26.432-07:00Dizi at Nersses VanakLet's expand our knowledge of Persian cuisine a bit, shall we? <i>Dizi</i>, also known as <i>ab-goosht</i>, is a Persian soup dish that my mom used to make when I was a kid. I haven't had it in well over a decade. I returned to <i>dizi</i> after this gaping hiatus, last week, at a strip mall Armenian Persian spot on San Fernando called Nersses Vanak, and I'm extremely glad I did.<br />
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Let me tell you about the dish. Dizi is a tomato-based soup, long-simmered with chunks of lamb meat, chickpeas, and potatoes. It's got a dark acidity that sometimes borders on intense bitterness, from <i><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Black_lime">limoo amani</a> -- </i>small limes boiled in brine then dried in the sun until they're hardened and black in color. Just a few ingredients, but the magic is in the eating. After everything's cooked together, the meat and chickpeas (and sometimes the potatoes as well) are strained out of the broth. They're pounded together to make <i>goosht-o-nokhod</i>, a dense, nearly-spreadable mash that's served alongside the broth.</div>
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As we entered Nersses Vanak, we walked into a smallish, slightly fancy dining room with red and pink walls with a bit of ornate trim. On the far wall, World Cup was playing on a flatscreen, and as the lunch crowd rolled in, every diner was a minor variation on my own dad. </div>
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The young guy manning the whole room -- speaking English to us, Persian to another table, and Armenian to the guys in the kitchen -- started us off with bread. It was the restaurant's spin on <i><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Taftan_(bread)">taftoon</a></i>, and it was excellent: fresh from the oven, thicker than lavash, less dense than Indian naan, softly pillowy, and especially delicious when we sandwiched in a bit of the fresh basil and sweet onion that accompanied it. </div>
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Then he brought out my <i>dizi</i>, and I felt a little hesitation. There is a bit of ritual to eating the dish, and as much was I wanted to appear real-deal Persian, I was a little rusty. At Nersses Vanak, you can have them make the <i>goosht-o-nokhod</i> for you, or you can opt to mash it yourself. I'd gone with the latter, curious about the unusual gadget they'd give me for the job. </div>
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So, he brings out my dizi in a very old-country looking metal mini-urn, along with a bowl for serving and the masher, something like a round meat mallet, but with its handle up-and-down instead of sideways. (I didn't ask, but I'm pretty convinced that both of these contraptions come from Iran.)</div>
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He also brought out a basket of yet more bread, in this case <i><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lavash">lavash</a></i> that had been dried in the oven until crisp. "For <i>tellit</i>," he said in an adorable mix of English and Persian, the idea being that you break up the bread into pieces and throw it into the hot broth, oyster-crackers-in-clam-chowder style. </div>
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He graciously strained the broth from the barrel-thing into my bowl for me, saving my fingers from the burning hot vessel. I got to mashing, getting hungrier by the second, the scents of the soup wafting up as I worked. I threw in my lavash bits, scooped in some of my meaty garbanzo-y mash, and dug in. </div>
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My <i>dizi</i> was comforting and delicious, and for the first time, I really got it: you start out with a bowl of somewhat insipid broth, but the lavash melts into and thickens it, the <i>goosht-o-nokhod</i> slowly spreads through, getting moistened by the broth, and the texture of the whole thing changes completely. Each element gives to and takes from the others, and you end up with a singular, fully integrated food, hearty and filling.<br />
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<a href="http://www.yelp.com/biz/nersses-vanak-glendale">Nersses Vanak</a> is at 6524 San Fernando Rd., just south of Western in Glendale.</div>
tannaz sassoonihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11896521823667685140noreply@blogger.com2