Tag Archives: cheese

Cover-up

October 15, 2015 By in Recipes Tags: , , , , , , 1 Comment

Wine-Baked Apples with Fennel, Peanut, and Pecorino Filling


While summer is about shedding layers, uncovering patios, and pointing our faces toward the sun, fall, this devastatingly short transition period, is about covering things up in preparation for the hell that’s to come.

We cover things up, literally, by adding layers and sealing windows. Multicolored leaves litter the streets and walkways, obscuring the cold concrete beneath. We paint walls and exteriors now that summer’s dewy humidity is largely broken and we can air out our homes; whatever drab color that was previously there is just a memory. We burrow ourselves in fleece blankets and fluffy comforters since we resist turning on the heat. “It’s only October,” we say. “We have a long winter ahead of us.” And at the end of October, costumed trick-or-treaters come knocking, their true character hidden behind constructed whimsy.

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Re-creating a Favorite

May 9, 2013 By in Recipes Tags: , , , , 10 Comments

flattened za’atar chicken over cheese pancake

chicken under brick
Lately, things have been a little dark in this space. A little too sad and depressing. I’m getting itchy and restless. There have been hints of beauty, even hilarity, in the midst of the normal sniffles and general unpleasantness that define this season for me, and it’s time to breath and enjoy a bit.

One thing I typically start doing more of this time of year is eating out. There are a lot of new(ish) places I look forward to checking out now that I am awake from my long winter’s nap. But last weekend I found myself wanting to play with seasonal flavors (well, the ones I can find right now) in a dish, or a version of one, I enjoy from my favorite standby restaurant in my area. Maybe recreating this restaurant dish serves to bridge the transition from eating in to eating in and out. But it was fun, and it is definitely going on the rotation.

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Thank You

February 7, 2013 By in Uncategorized Tags: , , , , , , 7 Comments

color, flavor, light

Cover Muttabaq2
2010. It was the year I knew I needed a change of course. Research into the complexities of our government was my everyday and it would be for the rest of my life. Publishing works on presidential leadership while dreaming of going home and playing with my food. That was my fate. I wanted the opposite: I wanted my work to become my hobby again and my hobby to become my life. For several years, my free time was consumed by books on food. I’d read and learn and file the information away in a mental folder labeled “culinary” (and in another one labeled “pastry,” of course) that rested on the shelf, sandwiched between the one labeled “Calvinism” and the other labeled ”democracy.” And 2010 was the year I learned about Yotam Ottolenghi and his business partner Sami Tamimi — their backgrounds and their popularity in London.

I thought I had found my culinary cousin — a wiser, more creative, more experienced cousin. This is how I like to eat. Ottolenghi gets me, I thought. Persian father, American mother, I grew up with no real food story. I eat and love everything, but it is the freshness of the Mediterranean and the boldness of the Middle East, no region’s unique cuisine excluded, that will always be my favorites.

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Spring Awakening

March 22, 2012 By in Recipes Tags: , , , , 13 Comments

asparagus and pancetta quiche


The forecasted high for today is 81 degrees. 81. I’ve been opening the windows for a couple of weeks now. It started with a hesitant crack. Always cold, I’m typically wary of the weatherman’s coos of warm breezes. But today the windows will be open wide. I’m embracing the change of air. It’s remarkable how light it feels — how light I feel. Out with the dank, in with the light.

These words aren’t surprising. Who doesn’t feel a little better when the first signs of life creep through the cracks of the drab concrete? But spring is never my favorite season. There’s something calm about winter, and spring — especially in New England — seems like a mere blip on the radar, an atmospheric tick that marks the transition from dead to lush. It’s not a pleasant blip like fall with its changing leaves and clean air. It’s often damp and humid, windy and grey. It clogs noses and sends tears to eyes. This year just feels different.

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Stress Snacks

January 3, 2012 By in Recipes Tags: , , , , , , 6 Comments

lyonnaise garlic and herb cheese


For two out of my four years at Boston University, I was lucky enough to live in the Maison Française (French House). Unfortunately, we didn’t speak as much French as we were supposed to. Fortunately, though, my backyard was a walking bridge across Storrow Drive and to the Charles; my room was cramped but fitted with a swanky fireplace with white molding that was boarded up with marble tile; and like proper Francophiles, almost all of my housemates liked to eat good food (well, most of them, anyways). I found it impossible to do work in our living room where study sessions turned to chatter sessions and silent reading meant pretending to read while watching something on our great flat screen. As a diligent little worker-bee, I tried my room, the library, the student union, the College of Arts and Sciences and cafés. So most days, I swallowed my pride, and made the convenient trek directly across the street to Towers, an underclass dorm that made me feel oh-so young. Fitted with two study rooms, though, it was my second home on regular days and my only home come exam periods.

When I entered my study room of choice, I was always greeted by the same faces, pale and gaunt with fatigue and longing for a break. These were some of BU’s most dedicated — a group of which, if I could go back, I wish I wasn’t a part. I missed out on a lot of life in that hall, studying for things that now don’t seem all that important. The souls behind those faces were silent friends. They weren’t the ones you spend time with on weekends but the kind who nod when you pass just due to recognition. They’d often flash an expression that called out, “I know your pain.” I mean, during finals period, I would spend hours upon countless hours with them.

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The Cheese Straw That Saved Christmas

December 29, 2011 By in Recipes Tags: , , , , , 4 Comments

cheese straws


Christmas has long been my holiday. Since the larger side of my family lives in Iran, and my only close relatives on the small side relocated to Georgia, our holiday gatherings are not grand affairs, and the five of us — my grandpa, grandma, mom, dad and me — typically just celebrate a holiday or birthday with a dinner and dessert. There’s no traveling involved (my grandparents live 20 minutes away), no “morning after” menu with which to contend and no problem wondering how all the food will fit in the fridge. My grandma hosts Thanksgiving and serves the same thing each year, while I look forward to flipping through my cookbooks and planning Christmas dinner well in advance, from soup to nuts.

Menu planning for such a small event, then, should be a cinch, right? Wrong. I’m not really working with adventurous eaters here. My grandparents are meat and taters folk. Their diet, understandably, reflects that of a hardworking, humble, New England family. They’ve always had little, never traveled and didn’t really learn that there’s more than two varieties of onions or that herbs don’t just come in jars. And coming from humble origins myself, I respect that, I do.

Our Christmas dinners are not avant-garde. They’re just homey and comforting, and I like that, but there are so many restrictions. Grandpa doesn’t like nuts, lettuce that is not iceberg, dressing that doesn’t come from a bottle, garlic or anything “foreign” (his words, not mine). He orders his meat medium-well (blech). He devours chocolates (only milk) but not chocolate desserts. Grandma can’t eat breakfast or lunch food like sandwiches, only indulges in white chocolate and has trouble eating ice cream. She thinks chickens don’t have bones and thus will only eat poultry that has been cut off the bone. She also has somehow made something similar to anything that you have ever served and will always make that clear as you proudly present your dishes. I would never know, because she seems to only give my family week-old, leaden loaves of date-nut bread for gifts. The list goes on.
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