photos by Lara Ferroni
Yvette was raised in the UK surrounded by her Persian relatives before moving to the states and living with her Persian aunt and grandmother in Spokane. When she was a young girl, she spent a summer in Iran, and recalls picking stones from the rice grains and the distinct smell of kebabs at the Kasbah, where they would sit outdoors on big cushions and eat. Her heritage is strong, and Yvette holds her family’s food traditions in high regard.
She keeps sugar cubes around, especially for the Iranian men that come by her house. They hold the sugar in their gums, whilst sipping the tea that she brews throughout the day in her samovar. Her bronze mortar and pestle is used only for grinding saffron. She’s very serious about rice, and her tadik, which makes an appearance at most occasions, and is now expected by friends.
Indian basmati rice is Yvette’s favorite, as it has a long grain, nutty flavor and most importantly, it won’t break. Tadik, a crispy golden layer of slow-cooked caramelized rice at the bottom of the rice pot, takes center stage in Persian cuisine and is the symbol of a good cook. If it’s done right (cooked slowly for hours), when turned upside down and flipped onto a plate, it’s the big showcase of the evening.
For Chelow ba polow paz (saffron steamed rice), she rinses the rice until the water runs clear (five times), covers it with water and steams it for about ten minutes. The rice for the tadik is done when you can break a rice grain over your nail. “That’s how my grandma did it. It’s the only way I know,” she says.
The rice is drained, and returned to the same pot, now layered with some saffron water and butter. Yvette sets a “turban” of paper towels under the lid (to catch steam), moves the rice pot over low heat and leaves it alone for several hours. Yvette uses non-stick pans, and often purchases them directly from a small Persian store on Lake City Way. “They know we cook big, so they have great pans,” she says smiling. It’s also important for her to support small Iranian businesses as she has found that people can have animosity towards Iranians from negative media. (For the record, Iran is pronounced, “Ee-rahn,”. Pride in her culture runs deep and Yvette makes a point to correct people.)
With the rice pot pushed to the back of the stove, Yvette starts the Khoresh-e Bademjan, a simple braise of onion, chicken, tomato, eggplant and lime—a dish that can be left in the oven for hours, holding until everyone is ready to sit down. Iranians are notoriously late, Yvette notes, so food that can hold over time is a theme in Persian cooking and eating. The one-pot meal comes together fairly quickly, and leaves us time to chat. In Iran, you are free to commune around the table, drink tea, eat from the Nan-o Panir-o sabzi-khordan (a platter full of herbs and cheese set out all day long to nibble) and socialize with family and friends. That’s the beauty of Persian food: Coming together in the kitchen is nearly more important than the food itself.
With Iranian music coming from the speakers in the kitchen, Yvette reminisces about her college years in Spokane where she met her husband, Peter. The couple hosts a monthly gathering along with eleven other couples affectionately dubbed ‘The International Club’. There is a German couple, a few Europeans and recently, Peter “recruited some spicy people,” says Yvette, asking along an Indian couple and a gentleman from Morocco. It’s a mult-ethnic urban family, sharing everything from monthly potlucks to an annual Beaujolais tasting.
Time passes quickly, whilst sipping tea and eating feta (she prefers Israeli feta) wrapped in lavash (a Persian flatbread baked in clay ovens). Soon, her children arrive home from school.
Sarah, who is 12, comes in for a plate of lavash and mast-o khiar (minted yogurt). Yvette pulls the chicken from the oven and the room is filled with the smell onions, cinnamon and saffron. Now it’s time to flip the rice out of the pot. If she has done everything correctly, the rice will have a hard golden crust on the bottom, and will be tinted with saffron.
She’s already giving a disclaimer—the tadik hasn’t been on very long, as it’s only been an hour and fifteen minutes. “I’m nervous,” she says laughing. If we were in Iran, everyone would be gathered in the kitchen to marvel. It’s a show-stopper as she flips it out and heaves a sigh of relief. Peter comes through the kitchen, eyeing the tadik, and gives her a thumbs up.
We sit down with plates of chicken and saffron-scented crisp rice when Chase, her eleven-year old son comes in from school. The kitchen is now become the hub, with kids in and out, and Peter walking through on occasion. It’s just how Yvette likes it and she’s beaming that we’re all here to eat her family recipes.
“This is one of my favorite meals and has a lot of memories because my mom and grandma used to make it often and it’s a very popular dish all over Iran, north and south,” she says. Chase pipes into the conversation and asks Yvette if she’s taught me how to pronounce Iran properly—a noteworthy display of national pride from the next generation. You can tell he’s proud of his mother and the culture that he belongs to.
And for the record Chase, it’s Ee-rahn.
Shopping List
For spices and pans:
Pacific International Gourmet Foods
12332 Lake City Way NE, Seattle
For Persian bread and pastry:
Minoo Bakery
12518 Lake City Way NE, Seattle
Persian Staples Every Kitchen Should Have:
Saffron
Basmati Rice
Advieh
Onions
Plain Yogurt
Dried Mint